


The Chaos and the Calm

by spacemonkey766



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Canon-Typical Violence, Drowning, Eventual Romance, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Bruce Wayne, Smut, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 09:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15927752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacemonkey766/pseuds/spacemonkey766
Summary: The life of young superheroes is chaotic, but it's in the middle of the chaos Dick and Conner find each other, find their calm. This is a series of moments between Dick and Conner that bring them together.(major Dick Grayson/Conner Kent slash…a few chapters include sexual content.)





	1. Craving

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless Conner Kent/Dick Grayson slasher. Title and chapter themes inspired by James Bay’s album “Chaos and the Calm”
> 
>  
> 
> 'Sheer and wild abandon that's all I need  
> And someone I can trust  
> 'Coz I'm craving, craving, craving something I can feel  
> Where do I go, what do I need, is it ecstasy or is it fear?  
> Am I on my own, am I even close  
> 'Coz I'm craving, still craving something I can feel"

“You okay?”

Robin looked up from where he was seated on top of a cot in Medbay, legs dangling over the edge and an ice pack pressed firmly to his jaw, towards the voice that called out from the doorway. Superboy was walking towards him, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, sore from when he had been thrown back against a wall.

The two had been sparring and it had gotten heated, quickly and surprisingly. It had started out pretty normal and then escalated fast. A few minutes of offense and defense was all it was before Superboy had started coming at him with that reckless abandon that reminded Robin of when the clone first joined the team three years ago. Robin would be lying if he said it didn’t scare him initially, but after a moment the heat of the battle invigorated him. Their bodies clashed as they fought; sweat dripping, breathing fast as they both threw strong attacks, both able to fight out frustrations they didn’t realize needed to be vented. Conner had gotten in quite a few good punches, the most predominant being the one throbbing at Robin’s jaw at the moment. But Robin had held his own and with a great lead up had been able to kick Conner back hard against the sparring room wall, even putting a nice Superboy-sized crack in it.

“I should be asking you that. I thought we were past the ‘roid rage days,” Robin smirked, pulling the ice pack away and flexing his jaw as Conner sat beside him on the cot. Robin ignored the hint of jealousy he felt as he noted that Conner’s feet managed to touch the floor. Even at 16 he was still the smallest member of the team and was impatiently waiting for that growth spurt Alfred kept promising him was coming. 

Conner snorted in amusement, grabbing the ice pack from Robin and placing it in sweet relief at the back of his neck.

“You weren’t exactly a passive participant in there yourself,” Conner knew he should probably offer an apology, but Robin didn’t seem like he was looking for one. “What were you getting out of your system back there?”

“Everything. Or nothing,” Robin shrugged. The truth was, Robin wasn’t exactly sure if it was just adrenaline that had him match Conner’s pace in the sparring room or if he too was taking his own frustrations out on his sparring partner as Conner had clearly been doing.

“That’s not an answer,” Conner replied, looking at the boy in amused impatience as he handed the ice pack back to Robin 

“It’s really not about me though, Con,” Robin said, staring back at the boy, placing the pack at his jaw once more. “Miss M walked past the sparring room and you went all Superboy-on-a shield-patch on me.”

“You’re very perceptive,” Conner sighed, leaning forward on his thighs, hands clasped between his knees. It had been six months since he and M’gann had broken up, for reasons he wasn’t ready to disclose to their friends. He was having a hard time moving forward, moving past the idea of not being with her when that was all he’d known. But looking at Robin, he felt like he could at least trust the other boy with what was going on with him.

“M’gann was the first person who made me feel things I hadn’t learned from Cadmus. And for her, I was the first on this planet she’d ever felt anything toward. So we explored that new experience together but we had our issues and it had to end. I’m just not sure if it’s her I miss or the feeling of being complete with someone; someone that made me feel human.”

As Conner spoke, Robin couldn’t help but see the boy differently, like a person he was meeting for the first time. It wasn’t often he got to see a soft, introspective side of the half-Kryptonian. His softened features when not in a scowl made him look younger and reminded Robin that even though Conner’s age reflected nineteen, he was still only three years deep in this life. 

Robin could understand what it was like to feel like everything you understood about life being turned upside down. He felt it in the worst way when his parents were killed in front of him. He felt it in the best way when he first put on the uniform and started fighting alongside Batman. And now at 16, he was feeling it all over again. Urges, feelings, doubts, desires, cravings that contradicted what he thought he knew about himself; things he wasn’t ready to share just yet because he wasn’t sure of them himself. All he knew was he was kind of thrilled by the sparring match they just had, if he was to be honest with himself. The way Conner fought, strong and wild, it was definitely something that had Robin taking notice. 

It took a moment for Robin to realize that Conner had still been speaking while he was lost in his own thoughts. He had only been half paying attention and right now Conner was looking at him expectantly, almost pleading for a response.

“That was very ept-ly said for a guy like you,” Robin smiled.

“Ept-ly?” Conner tilted his head, confused.

“Yeah, ya know. Like the opposite of inept,” Dick nudged him with his shoulder and Conner just laughed. Dick was always breaking down words like that, making things appear out of nothing and Conner admired him for his vision.

“But seriously, Conner, I think you just need to take time to experience things. Learn about yourself. Not as M’gann’s boyfriend, or Superman’s clone. Find out what it is that you want, what you need, not what anyone else wants or needs from you,” Robin placed a hand on Conner’s knee, trying to reassure his friend. He thought he felt a shiver run through Conner’s body beneath his hand but wasn’t sure if it came from himself instead. Before he could get a chance to find out, Conner jumped off the cot and turned to face him.

“Thanks, Rob. You’re a good friend,” Conner patted him on the shoulder once and then turned and walked out of medbay, leaving Robin behind to watch as he left. Raising the icepack up to his jaw, the swelling having gone down, but Robin didn’t feel any less confused about the sparring match, about Conner, or about himself than he did before their conversation. He had given good advice, wondering if it was something he should remind himself.


	2. Hold Back the River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Hold back the river, let me look in your eyes  
> Hold back the river, so I can stop for a minute and be by your side  
> Hold back the river, hold  
> Lonely water, lonely water, won't you let us wander  
> Let us hold each other'

Robin was surrounded, his team battling their own thugs as the teenage Justice team sought to intercept the weapons smuggling in Metropolis. No big supervillain, just regular run-of-the-mill criminals in what should have been an easy mission. In fact, the team consisted of only Kid Flash, Superboy, Artemis and himself for this mission. Robin saw out of the corner of his eye three of the crooks run out at the back of the warehouse towards the dock where he was sure a getaway car was waiting. Robin quickly tossed a handful of gas pellets at the six thugs circling him, turning to dash away as the gas disoriented them and head after the fleeing crooks. Before he could turn the corner of the exit, he immediately ran into the arms of the three other thugs. He hadn’t had a second to think before their hands were on him.

The larger one wrapped an arm around his waist and used his free hand to clamp over Robin's mouth. A second goon came to stand in front of him not a second later, Robin helpless as his arms were pulled in front of him. His gloves were yanked off and thrown to the floor, hands pulled out in front of him where a rope was wrapped around his wrists eight times before being cinched tightly, followed by more rope wound around his chest and upper arms three times, securing his arms down. A third thug was tying his ankles identically to his wrists before doing the same to his legs below his knees. 

Robin struggled in the clutch the large thug had on him, trying to get some leverage, shouting underneath the hand silencing him as the other two finished up his bindings. 

The hand finally released the grip on his mouth but the thug that tied his wrists immediately forced a length of cloth between his teeth and pulled it behind his head. They wrapped it around his head and between his teeth three times before being tied in a double knot behind his head, gagging him so he had no chance to call for help. Not even to Conner’s super hearing; and with no M’gann on the mission, there was no psychic link to reach out to for help either. 

“Just a kid. Not so tough without the Bats around, are ya? We’ll take care of ya, don’t you worry. Penguins said he’d pay extra if we ever got the chance to get rid of you, so we’ll be keeping the cape for insurance.” The third goon smirked down at him as he removed Robin’s utility belt from around his waist, throwing it over his shoulder and pulled away his cape, tucking it under an arm. He then grabbed a cinderblock from a pile against the warehouse wall. Wrapping rope around its middle, he grabbed the end of the rope and fastened the cinderblock to Robin’s ankles. Between the three of them, they hoisted Robin and the cinderblock up as he was carried back towards the edge of the dock. 

“We know birdies fly, but let’s see if they can swim,” one of the thugs laughed as they neared the edge. Robin struggled, screaming behind his gag, angry at himself for allowing to be put in this position. “Bye-bye birdie.” 

Robin saw them toss in his utility belt first, followed immediately by Robin as he was tossed over the edge, the weight of the cinderblock dragging him ankles first into the water. 

The force of the water, the cold temperature and the speed at which he became submerged, hit Robin like a ton of bricks, even through his suit. He twisted and writhed in his bindings as he was pulled down fast. Within seconds the cinderblock landed with a thump onto the harbor floor. Robin kicked and struggled, pulled against the water and the restraining brick. Tied the way he was, he couldn’t reach the switchblade in his boot. The crooks were smarter then they looked, having removed his gloves with the hidden tools, and all his gadgets and weapons in his utility belt were above him, slowly sinking down. 

It was so cold and dark and he was beginning to lose feeling to his body. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been down here. He knew he could hold his breath for a few minutes but time seemed to slow down as Robin’s throat started to constrict. With what little strength he had, he thrashed around his bindings, strained upward as if he could snap the tension in the roping securing him to the cinderblock. The effort drained him and his vision began to darken. 

He watched as his utility belt hit the floor beside him. ‘Too late. Way to go, Grayson,’ Robin thought, his eyes closing as his air supply gave out, his head bobbing down in the water. The splash above him didn’t register until suddenly something wrapped around him. 

One arm wrapped tight around his waist, the other reached down and tore at the rope that fastened the cinderblock to his ankles as if it was nothing more than a loose thread. With a great force, Superboy kicked off the floor of the harbor and Robin vaguely felt the sensation of water speeding past him as he was sprung up till they broke through the surface. Superboy had a tight hold on Robin’s torso as he lifted him up out of the water, a cold gust of wind as the arms wrapped around him pulled them into the air, before landing on the dock. 

The desperation of the situation threw Conner off and he lost his balance as they landed on the dock, falling back onto the wood surface under the weight of the soaked young man, Robin collapsing on his lap, leaning heavily against Conner’s chest. 

Robin’s eyes remained closed as he felt Conner maneuver them so Robin was lying flat on his back as Superboy knelt beside him. Strong hands ripped at the rope that fastened his ankles and he felt the ropes fall from his legs as they were pulled away. 

“Oh god, please be okay,” he heard a deep voice whisper. “Robin?” 

A strong yet gentle hand cupped his cheek for a moment before pulling the cloth from his lips, leaving it dangling around his neck as the hand returned to his face, the other cupping his other side, thumbs making tracing soft lines over his cheek. 

“Robin, please,” the voice was desperate now. Robin wasn’t breathing. 

Conner planted one hand firmly on the dock beside of Robin’s head, the other cupping his cheek as he leaned down, pressing his lips against Robin’s and breathed into his mouth. 

Conner could hear the faint heartbeat, slowing and fading in Robin’s chest but yet still no breathing. After a few more forced breaths, Robin finally coughed, water escaping his lips as he alternated between coughing and gasping in air, the white eyes of the mask finally opening. 

“Breathe deep, breathe deep. You're okay.” Conner sighed as Robin’s coughing continued and he struggled to pull in air. He could hear the heartbeat getting stronger now, beating wildly. Still kneeling, Conner slid one arm under the 16-year-old hero’s back and maneuvered Robin so that he was sitting up against his chest, sinking back on his heels. With one arm wrapped behind the teens back, Conner brought his other hand up to push back the wet dark hair away from Robin’s masked face.

Robin’s coughing finally ceased but he was still heavily panting trying to catch his breath. Conner moved his hand from Robin’s face to go to his wrists to free them. Before he could, Robin brought his bound hands to Conner’s shirt, gripping the fabric of the center of the red shield tight in his fists, and pulled the super boy’s head down for a desperate kiss. Conner inhaled through his nose and exhaled into Robin’s mouth, providing much-needed air into Robin’s oxygen-deprived lungs, a frantic yet intimate version of mouth to mouth. 

Conner didn't even think about pulling away as he wrapped his arm tighter around Robin’s body, hugging him to his chest, and brought his other hand to clasp tightly over where the shaking hand’s gripped his shirt. The kiss deepened, their lips tightly locked as Conner continued to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth into Robin’s as their lips never broke contact, Robin panting heavily through his nose. And then as quick as it had begun, Robin pulled away, his breathing finally under control and the connection broken. 

“Easy Robin. Just breathe, you’re safe.” Conner reassured quietly, wrapping his arms tighter around the drenched boy as he felt his body begin to shiver. Robin felt a shaky breath against the top of his head as Conner rested his chin atop Robin’s soaked hair. The desperate and tender touch was as unexpected to Robin as the twisted mouth to mouth Robin has just initiated with Conner was. But neither commented on it nor planned to, as they sat there embraced in relief.


	3. Best Fake Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'If you don't bleed it, you don't need it anymore  
> If you don't need it, get up and leave it on the floor  
> No more believing like it's a voice you can't ignore  
> If you don't need it, you don't need it no'

Conner walked down the hall of the mountain, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he headed toward the Rec area. He was barefoot and clad only in his pajama bottoms, the blue ones with cartoon monkeys all over them that Wally had given him for Christmas. It was about three a.m. and everyone was either sleeping in their quarters or at their own homes, for those who had one. He, like M’gann and a few others, called Mount Justice home. Sure, Clark had offered him a room at his apartment, but Conner didn’t want to impose anymore in his life than he already had. So this remained home for him. He didn’t mind the mountain. Especially for someone who slept very little, it was nice and quiet in the late/early hours of the day. 

As he turned the corner he saw someone upside down, propped up on one hand, balancing his body in a perfectly straight line, atop the counter of the island in the kitchen. He didn’t recognize the face upside down like that but he couldn’t help but recognize the agility and finesse of the body as the figure pushed back from the counter with the one hand, launching himself up into the air backward, flipping in midair on his descent and landing soundlessly to the floor on his feet.

It was Robin, dressed in gray fitted sweatpants and a black ribbed tank top, his back to Conner as he stood from his landing, stretching his arms above his head. Bending at the waist, Robin lowered his forearms to the floor, hands palm-down before straightening his legs with his feet firmly planted on the floor, his body in a perfect inverted ‘v’. Before Conner could blink, Robin lifted his legs straight up, his body forming a straight line, all his weight balancing on his forearms. His knees then bent, back arched, till his toes just touched the top of his head, his eyes closed as held the position. 

The ease in which Robin accomplished what looked incredibly difficult to Conner, the serenity on his face as he held the position for about thirty seconds before easily reversing the pose till he was kneeling on the floor, had Conner hypnotized. The boy wonder was always climbing, balancing, crouching on things most people walked around, got on step stools for, or leaned against. Not Robin though. Wally told Conner it was because he was an acrobat when he was growing up; that moving like that was something ingrained in him. Robin didn’t see the floor separate from the ceiling. Everything in between was just something to play on.

But what really captured Conner’s attention was Robin’s face. He’d never seen it unobscured. Usually, the upper portion of his face was covered by a mask or sunglasses. Yes, Robin had his eyes closed, but the seventeen-year-olds face was unguarded and it was like Conner was seeing this person for the first time. 

Conner stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall for the next twenty minutes, content on watching as Robin, seemingly unaware that he was being stared at, did various other yoga poses that extended, bent, and contorted his body in a way Conner didn’t deem imaginable.

Robin entered the next pose from lying down on the floor. Planting his hands firmly against the surface, he extended his arms till they were straight, legs extended and feet balancing on his toes. It reminded Conner of a push-up, at least until Robin moved his right leg to bend till his foot was planted next to his right hand, knee in line with his shoulder, toes in line with his fingers. He then wrapped his right leg over his right elbow and pushed off his with his left foot. All his weight was on his hands now as his upper body angled down, his right foot pointing beneath his chest and between his forearms. As he stretched the left leg back, perfectly extended straight, foot pointed towards the ceiling, his weight on his hands, he lifted his head, eyes still closed

“I know I was trained to lurk in the shadows. Didn’t know it was a Kryptonian thing too,” Robin smiled, eyes still closed, holding the position for a few more seconds before lowering and untangling his legs till he was sitting cross-legged on the floor. He reached over to a nearby chair and plucked his sunglasses from where they rested safely while he stretched. He slid them onto his face just as Conner came to stand in front of him.

“I’m sorry for watching. I couldn’t look away.” Conner apologized, lowering himself to sit on the floor in front of his friend. Robin said nothing, just softly smiling at him. The unguarded, unfamiliar face of the boy from just moments ago was gone. The masked face of his teammate was back and Conner was disappointed. It was like he was let in on a small part of the reveal of a special secret only to have it stop just short of learning it. In the years they’d know each other, this was only the second time Conner felt like he was being let in on a piece of the Boy Wonder that no one else knew. The first had been that night at the dock where Conner coaxed Robin back to life with mouth to mouth intertwined with a kiss. The two never spoke of it, to each other or to anyone.

“It doesn't bother me,” Robin shrugged, smirking at him. “I’m a performer; it’s what I live for.”

“Well, you do put on a good show,” Conner smirked back before his face shifted to something Robin couldn’t distinguish, “but that wasn't it.”

“What then?”

“We’ve been teammates for just over four years now, and I still don’t know who you really are,” Conner said abruptly, wishing he had x-ray vision like Superman so he could peek through those glasses. 

“You know who I am,” Robin said matter-of-factly. “You just don’t know my name.”

“I want to know more.” As Conner spoke Robin seemed to inspect him for a few moments, staring at his face like he was deciphering something written across it.

“Like?”

“Anything,” Conner responded. He decided to start small. “Let’s start with why you’re here? I thought you went home.”

“I did,” Robin nodded, letting his head hang for a moment before looking back up at Conner. “I got into an argument with Batman. I wandered around Gotham for a bit but decided to come here and spend the night.”

“What kind of argument?” Conner asked, concerned.

“Does it matter?” Robin asked, a little too sharply. Conner didn’t recoil at the tone, but Robin still felt bad. He thought about apologizing but knew how lame it would sound, so he decided to make it up to him by elaborating. “I’ve been feeling a little lost lately; unsure of where I’m going. I came to him looking for guidance, help. Instead, I got orders. And then it got heated and I left. I don’t know if I can go back.”

“He’s your father, isn’t he? He would let you come back.”

“Well, he’s not actually my father, but the closest thing I have,” Robin laughed sadly. “The problem is it started as a conversation with my father and then ended in an argument with Batman.” Robin paused a moment, lost in his own head before he continued. “What I mean is the argument can’t be undone. How I feel right now about who I am, who I’m not...I can’t go back to who I was.” 

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Can I help, Robin?” 

“Yeah,” Robin sighed, ducking his head down, rubbing the back of his neck. “You can start by not calling me Robin.”

“Then what do I call you?” Conner tilted his head, confusion lacing his voice.

“I don’t know yet,” the boy said, pulling his sunglasses away from his face, gripping them closed his hand. He lifted his head and opened his eyes to look into Conner’s. Conner didn’t recognize the face; he didn’t know many people outside of the team. He knew that Robin, or the boy who once was, had just shared something very special with him. 

He also knew that he wouldn’t learn the boy’s real name tonight; maybe one day soon. But Conner sensed that even a name couldn’t tell him more than what he just learned by looking into those blue eyes.


	4. If You Ever Want to Be in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Saw you today after so much time  
> Felt just like it used to be  
> Talking for hours bout a different life  
> Surrounding us in memories  
> We were close, never close enough  
> Where are we now  
> 'Cause if it's torn we can stitch it up  
> Don't rule it out'

“Team, we have someone new joining us today,” Black Canary spoke as Superboy, Miss Martian, Batgirl, Beast Boy, Zatanna, Rocket, and a few of the new recruits huddled around. “Well, not new exactly.”

The looked to the other side of the main room at Mount Justice as the Zeta-Beam lit up in its brilliant white flash of light.

“Recognized,” started the electronic voice, “Robin B zero one.” 

“Remind me to update that,” the familiar voice spoke as he walked towards them. Conner stared intently as the figure approached. It was irrefutably the boy they had worked with for years, the 18-year-old boy that he hadn’t seen in six months. His stature, his half-obscured face with the ever-present black domino mask, and voice was everything Conner remembered. But that’s where the recognition ended.

The light kevlar outfit of red, yellow, and black that reminded Conner so much of the images of the North American songbird had been replaced by a full-body, black and grey armored suit with a stylized bluebird on the chest. 

“Hey guys,” the new-comer greeted. Conner took comfort that the familiar smirk that presented itself as new-comer spoke was still unchanged.

“Nice new look, Rob,” Beast Boy grabbed his hand and pulled him in for a half hug.

“Actually, it’s Nightwing now,” he announced as M’gann embraced him.

“It suits you,” Zatana said, giving Nightwing a kiss on the cheek. “I hope this means you’ll be rejoining us.”

Nightwing looked up to where Conner had been a second ago but the other boy was gone. Allowing himself a moment of disappointment, Nightwing resumed his conversation. When the questions and welcomes were done, Nightwing went in search of the missing hero. He knew Conner was probably still angry at him. From what he’d heard from his friends, a lot had happened in the six months since he left, the day after that conversation with Conner on the floor in the common area.

His gut led him to the sparring room where he saw Conner punching at the hanging bag on the far side of the room. He approached him cautiously, not wanting to disrupt him as he came to stand near him. 

Nightwing let out a grunt of pain as he was suddenly grabbed by the shoulders and thrown back against the concrete wall. He kicked out but it was quickly blocked. He was pushed back against the wall again, the force of the push knocking him off balance. Superboy’s full force slammed into him, pressing his back against the concrete, knocking the breath out of him. Superboy wasted no time in grabbing the disoriented man’s wrists, forcing them up on either side of Nightwing’s head, pinning them hard against the wall. Nightwing struggled, writhing and trying to break free of the grasp and the pressure pushing him into the wall, tugging on the vice-like grip. It was of no use.

“Nice to see you too,” Nightwing growled, staring through his mask up at Conner, a cross between a grimace and a smirk on his face. “Mind letting me go?”

“Come on,” Superboy impishly smiled, leaning in close. “Getting out of the hold of super strength was one of the first things we practiced. Or has it been too long and you don’t remember how to?”

“I could. Easily,” Nightwing playfully sneered back. “I’m just trying to save you some embarrassment of not being able to hold down a non-super like myself.”

“I’m not so sure. I’ve been training with Superman and my strength has increased since the last time we saw each other.” As he spoke, Nightwing felt the grip on his wrists tighten before they were released. He pushed himself away from the wall as Superboy backed away from him.

“Oh really?” Nightwing mocked, seemingly uninterested as he came to stand in front of the other boy.   
“I guess that’s not the only thing that’s changed in six months,” Superboy tilted his head, his eyes traveling up and down the other young hero, taking in the costume of black and blue. “Robin has gone the way of Speedy.”

“No,” Nightwing said, angry. “Speedy...Red Arrow left because he got cocky and his ego was too big. I left because it was time to move on. I needed a little time to figure myself out. I grew up. I wasn’t the Boy Wonder anymore.”

“So Robin leaves his teammates behind and six months later Nightwing comes back to take up leadership of the team again. Just like that.”

“Fuck you,” Nightwing shoved at Conner’s chest. “I never abandoned anyone I didn’t leave because of the team, I just needed some time to figure some things out. Wally and Artemis understood that before they left. And Kaldur, and everyone. Even Batman gets it now. You’re the only one that shut me out.”

“You left us.”

“It had nothing to do with you! I needed to change!” Nightwing shouted, angry. He’d had this battle with himself so many times and was growing tired of having to explain it, desperate for everyone to just understand. “I’d been Robin since I was nine years old! I needed to find out who I was, away from what I had become.”

“I understand.”

“I had -” Nightwing’s anger suddenly vanished, stepping back to look up at Conner. “What?”

“I know. You’re not the only one that’s changed,” Conner replied. “I get it now. And I’m sorry I cut you out.”

“Are you serious? You attack me; get me riled up, just to apologize?” Nightwing laughed incredulously. “You’re a piece of work.” 

“I knew I needed to talk to you and I didn’t want to do it in front of everyone. I knew you’d come to find me. I just needed to get you to stay long enough for you to hear me out.” Conner moved away from the other hero, walking towards a table at the end of the sparring room and grabbed two bottles of water. Nightwing’s irritation evaporated as Conner spoke.

“I was so angry. We’d been a team for almost four years. We’d become close, grew together, the league finally giving us the freedom we wanted. And I finally felt accepted by Clark. He looked at me like a member of his family rather than some abomination. It all just seemed to be perfect,” Conner spoke as he moved back towards Nightwing, eyeing the young man. 

He resembled so much of the 13-year-old boy he first met, yet so different. The attitude in his stance, the ever-present ghost of a smirk on his face, hadn’t changed. He was still lean, but more built up top. At 18 though, Nightwing stood at a good 5’11, just a few inches shorter than the 21-year-old (at least physically) Conner Kent.

Nightwing caught the bottle of water that Conner tossed him and with his back against the wall, slid down to sit on the floor, leaning back against the wall, legs bent up towards his chest. Conner followed his lead and lowered himself to the ground, sitting to the left of the other boy.

“And then one day, you just tell us you’re leaving. And then everything started to fall apart after you left. Wally and Artemis decided to quit the life and Kaldur was going through finding out who his real father was. All that was left was me and M’gann and a couple newbies. And she had just started dating again. I was so angry. All of those feelings of abandonment I had felt with Superman in the beginning came back. I mean, this was our team, our family. I kept asking myself how you could do that to us, to me. I lost it. I could barely function I was so mad.”

Nightwing just listened silently as the other boy spoke, unable to tear his gaze away from him. They’d fought alongside each other, spent most of their time together over the course of almost five years and Nightwing had rarely heard Conner speak like this. Hearing him, seeing him like this, raw emotion and no rage, it was like a glimpse of that Conner Kent he saw after that sparring match those few years ago. 

“And then Clark suggested I go to Smallville, spend some time with the Kents and learn what it meant to be more than just Superboy. And then it kind of all clicked. I knew why I was angry. At first, it was with you, but then at myself for shutting you out, refusing to even try to understand what you were going through and try to help you figure it out. We were friends. I should have done more, ya know?”

“I get it,” Nightwing nodded, draping his arms over his bent knees, looking anywhere in the room but Conner now. “I had a lot of anger too. I was tired of being stuck in Batman’s shadow, tired of doing things according to his rule book when I knew it wasn’t right for me; tired of playing the same part for half my life. It didn’t work for me anymore. Leading our team showed me that I no longer relied on Batman, that I could be my own hero. But I had to leave the team for a bit. Not just the dynamic duo, but our team, to move on to the next stage in my life. I kinda forgot who the person under the mask was because I got so wrapped up in being Robin. It was always about my issues. Not about Batman, and definitely not about the team. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know that now,” Conner nodded, staring down at the water bottle in his hand, focused and intently. “I think I knew it then too. But I was blinded by my own issues I never stopped to think about yours. And I think what made the anger so overwhelming was that when you left, it all came to a head that you weren’t going to be around all the time and I missed my chance to tell you, show you…”

“Tell me what?” Nightwing didn’t mean to interrupt. Conner didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve like Nightwing did. He knew how to handle it. Bruce Wayne was the same way. This was the most Conner had ever opened up to him in all the years he’d know him, something he never thought would happen after things ended the way they did. It was best to just let him talk it out at his own pace because any slight interruption might cause the other man to shut the emotion down.

It didn’t seem to deter Conner though as the boy opened his mouth to speak again before Black Canary spoke over the comm and instructed everyone to come to the ready room. Nightwing sighed, so close to finding more about Conner, so close to telling Conner more about himself.

“I do have more to say,” Conner sighed, standing up first, “but another conversation I guess.”

“Me too,” Nightwing nodded, looking up at the boy.

“Bridge under the water?” Conner asked, holding out his hand. “Teammates?”

“Teammates. Friends. Partners. ” Nightwing smiled, grasping Conner’s hand tightly, letting Superboy hoist him to his feet, shaking their hands in a truce. “Anything else I missed?”

“Not yet,” Conner smiled slightly, hoping to add a few more words to that list.


	5. Need the Sun to Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I'm halfway gone, sleepless I'm battle-worn  
> You're all I want, so bring me the dawn  
> I need the sun to break, you've woken up my heart  
> I'm shaking, all my luck could change  
> Been in the dark for weeks and I've realized you're all I need and  
> I hope that I'm not too late, I hope I'm not too late'

Dick Grayson wasn’t a guy to brag or boast, but he knew he was a young man of many talents. He was a talented gymnast; one of very few acrobats that could perform a quadruple somersault in the air. He had a talent for being a quick study, learning languages, math, computer, and science skills at an advanced pace and retaining that knowledge. He possessed a talent and love for communication, connecting with people and interpersonal skills that he most definitely did not inherit from Batman. Let’s just say, he wasn’t the hero-formerly-known-as the Boy Wonder for nothing.

Unfortunately, Dick Grayson also seemed to have a talent, an often-used albeit irritating talent, for attracting unwanted attention and getting himself into situations where someone wanted to string him up like a piñata, practice their rope knotting abilities, or use him as bait or barter. 

Today, it was all three. 

Dick Grayson, the Boy Hostage. 

Dick was balanced precariously on his feet, little more than the balls of his sneakers touching the ground. His legs were tied together at the ankles and just above the knees, making the control of his balance even more fragile. His wrists were tied and pulled upright above his head, muscles stretched painfully, latched to a hook protruding from one of the ceiling beams. The fear he could teeter at any moment was the only thing keeping him awake. His head hung, the pain of the beating from just a few minutes before taking its toll on him. Had he been able to curse out at his abductors he might have been more willing to fight the pain but a dirty rag had been shoved into his mouth, filling it, several layers of duct tape keeping it place, wrapped so tight he could feel it pulling at his cheeks. A black piece of cloth blindfolded him.

Dick struggled against the wrist ties, pulling and twisting at them as much as he could within the confines of the restraints and his weakened condition from the abuse. He ignored the pain of the cracked ribs, an injury he could recognize instantly thanks to the frequency of that occurrence from his night job. Dick pushed at his gag with his tongue, rubbing the tape against his bicep, trying to loosen it, but it held firm. On a normal day, he could have escaped easily but a cold sweat racked his body and Dick knew he was in rough shape.

He’d been kidnapped on the way home from class at Gotham University as Dick Grayson and was being held for ransom. It kind of came with the territory of being the ward and adopted son of one of the wealthiest men in the world. Granted he was 18 now and no longer the youngest member of the family so he was surprised he was still being ransomed at all. However, if it meant they left Tim alone, Dick was happy to be their bargaining chip. But they usually tied him up, roughed him up a bit, and left him relatively alone as not to risk a diminished reward sum that no one ever got the chance to collect. It was usually when he was held captive as Nightwing, or Robin in the old days, as a lure for Batman that he got the crap kicked out of him. But these guys, outnumbering him and prepped with chloroform, who abducted him from outside the dorm building, didn’t seem worried about delivering him in good condition. They emailed photos or video every hour on the hour to Bruce, either during or the aftermath of the beating, since he was first abducted twelve hours ago and were asking for ten million dollars. 

He knew Bruce was looking for him, probably had the cops on it too. Dick just hoped he called in a little help from their friends with super hearing, telepathic abilities or super speed. A few League members knew his identity so it wasn’t unreasonable.

As if on cue, he felt a gush of air and suddenly someone was standing in front of him. He felt hands on face and Dick jerked his head away instinctually but a familiar voice stilled him.

“Dick Grayson? I’m Superboy. I’m here to rescue you,” he heard Superboy say as he pulled at the gag.

Superboy tried to be as gentle as he could tearing away the boy’s gag, ignoring the moan of pain as it stung his flesh as it pulled. 

“Thank you,” Dick spoke raspy after spitting out the rag, his mouth dry from being gagged so long.

“It’s no problem. I-” suddenly Conner stopped and looked at the blindfolded boy in front of him. His voice sounded familiar but with the rasp, it was hard to tell. With the tape now gone, he could see the boy’s face. It didn’t look familiar on the grainy security camera footage from the abduction site from last night. But here, now, with his eyes obscured by the black cloth, clarity struck Conner.

“Nightwing,” he spoke in a whisper of a breath. Dick didn’t respond, just stayed still. With one hand cupping Dick’s cheek, Conner pulled the blindfold off over the boy’s head, making his face visible. Dick’s eyes blinked slowly at the sudden sensation of regaining his vision. Conner recognized that face. It was an image he couldn’t get out of his head from a year ago when Robin took off his sunglasses for him. 

“Dick Grayson,” Dick corrected with a shy smirk, a hint of sadness on his face that Conner suspected was due to Dick feeling guilty about Conner finding out his identity this way. Conner could care less though as he brought the other hand up to cup his other cheek, his thumb softly stroking the skin streaked with dirt and bruises and blood from a gash at the end of his left eyebrow. 

“Batman didn’t tell me,” Conner whispered as he moved his hands away from Dick’s face, one arm wrapping around Dick’s waist supporting his weight, the other hand reached up to lift Dick’s bound wrists up and off the hook.

“Con I,” Dick started to say but then screamed, “Superboy!” 

Dick tried to warn him but was too late as Conner was tackled to the ground by three of the goons that captured him. Dick fell to his knees, unstable with his legs and ankles still bound, and couldn’t even block the hits with his bound wrists as another one of his captors kneed him the gut, causing the teenager to double over in pain before an uppercut to his jaw split his lip. Dick spit the blood from his mouth into the eye of his attacker as he was grabbed by the shirt collar.

“Enough!” A loud, deep voice commanded from the opposite end of the room. Dick shifted his gaze and saw Sportsmaster standing tall, a fist in Superboy’s hair, yanking his head back as knelt at his feet. A second of confusion swept over Dick but the sight of a 10-inch green glowing blade in Sportsmaster’s hand pointed at Conner’s neck, centimeters from his jugular, stopped Dick from struggling with the thug holding him by the collar. “I wouldn't make another move if I were you; unless you’d like me to skewer your would-be savior Grayson.”

Dick wanted to say something menacing or sarcastic, to comment on how Sportsmaster was slumming it with petty kidnapping, but he had to remember he was a victim in this situation, not a brave masked hero who laughed at the first sign of danger. 

“What a pleasant treat this is,” Sportsmaster looked back and forth between the two young men at his mercy as Dick was dragged by the neck and thrown to the floor right in front of where Superboy was groaning from the Kryptonite exposure. As Sportsmaster continued to hold Superboy by his hair, one of the goons moved to bind Conner’s wrists behind his back with rope. “What was originally just a boring kidnapping and exploitation for some easy money has now turned into a fun time! How lucky for me I just acquired this nifty little knife a few days ago. Talk about timing!” Dick winced sympathetically as the blade pressed against Conner’s throat, a small bit of blood being drawn. “Speaking of timing, now we have to see what will happen first. Will Bruce Wayne wire the money to me to in time to save his pseudo-son and I let you both live? Or will he wait for the Jackass League to attempt another rescue only to find their mini-Superman and the billionaire’s ward dead?”

“If you don’t get the blade away from him you’ll kill him before you get anything!”

“Worry not, boy. I know what the blade will do to him. The Kryptonite may be meant for him, but the blade,” Sportsmaster pushed Superboy aside, three of his henchmen quick to restrain him between them, and lunged at Dick, burying the blade almost hilt deep into Dick’s left shoulder, “the blade is for you.” 

“No!” Superboy screamed, struggling in the hold the men had on him as Sportsmaster stabbed Dick who cried out in agony. Conner could still feel the effects of the Kryptonite, about an inch of the blade exposed between Dick’s body and the hilt, as the boy lay sprawled on the ground in front of him, a violent look of shock and pain etched on his face. The masked man stood above them in much the same way a predator looks at his prey. 

“The boy’s not made out of lead, but this blade is deep enough it should keep your superpowers nonexistent and drain you slowly, just like the wound will slowly drain the billionaire’s brat.” 

“You mother fu-ahhh!” Dick tried to reach his bound wrists up to remove the offending item from his shoulder, but Sportsmaster halted him by crushing a heavy booted foot on top of his hands, breaking at least two of Dick’s fingers and causing the boy to cry out. “Tie them up close together. The Kryptonian has to be close enough to feel it. And gag the rich little shit. I don't want him to forget that he’s nothing more than a paycheck. And in this case, money doesn’t talk.”

Dick must have passed out shortly after from the pain because the next thing he was aware of was waking to the sound of his name being shouted. He tried to shake the fog from his head but was finding it very difficult to focus. 

“Dick!”

He lifted his head to see Conner bent over and kneeling in front of him, his legs beneath him tied together at the upper thighs to his lower calf. He was also tied strappado style, his wrists bound together behind his back and suspended in the air by a tight lead of rope attached to the ceiling beam above. Dick noticed he looked a little paler than usual, albeit blurry.

“Night-I mean, Dick, are you with me?” His face began to come into focus and Dick could see the worry all over his face, as well as a pained expression. He then realized that Superboy wasn’t shouting his name, his face was just a mere few inches from his own that it felt loud. He went to ask Conner ‘with you where?’ but found himself unable, and at that moment Dick realized the rag was once again stuffed into his mouth, this time held in place by his former blindfold, pulled so tightly between his teeth and knotted at the back of his skull.

Awareness of his gag brought awareness of his predicament as pain wracked his body. A glance up and down at himself confirmed that he too was tied in the same fashion as Conner, the stringency and distress produced by his arms being pulled behind and up tore at the wound in his shoulder, still housing the Kryptonite blade, a steady stream of blood leaking from the hole and staining what at one point was his favorite shirt. 

“Dick?” Conner’s voice was urgent now, panic seeming to overtake him as Dick was taking too long to rouse from his state of semi-consciousness. Finally, blue eyes focused and looked directly at Conner’s. “Stay with me.” 

Dick grunted behind the gag, slowly nodding. Conner couldn’t ignore the weariness and pain plaguing Dick’s face that was just a few inches from his. Conner himself was feeling like shit, the partially concealed Kryptonite wreaking havoc on his body. His own breathing was heavy, but he felt a little surge of hope when the light came back into Dick’s eyes as he nodded again. The other boy did seem to be struggling to breathe through just his nose since his mouth was gagged. 

“I know you’re in pain, but if you can lean towards me I can try to get that gag off for you,” Conner spoke with purpose, trying to remain calm and quiet for Dick’s sake. Dick nodded again and with a pained groan and a wince, Dick leaned as forward as the rope would allow, and Conner closed the distance, straining against his wrist ties, mouth slightly open and gently latched onto the top of the outer gag with his teeth. He bit gently to get a grasp on the cloth, Dick trying to suppress a shiver as Conner’s teeth grazed against his cheek, his lips leaving a trail of moisture down his jawbone as Conner slowly dragged the gag down from his mouth, dropping it from his bite to let it fall around Dick’s neck. As Conner moved his head back, Dick could feel his hot breath on his neck.

They were both panting heavy now. Between the body heat of them both so close together, the fever they both knew they were suffering from between Dick’s wounds and Conner’s exposure to Kryptonite, the exertion on their bodies, and something else clearly happening between them, it was getting more and more difficult to focus. 

“There,” Conner sighed, watching as Dick tried to force the wad of cloth in his mouth out with his tongue. But the gag was too large and too packed in that Dick could only dislodge it about a half of an inch out of his mouth,

“Do…do you want me to help?” Conner asked, barely more than a whisper. Dick gulped, knowing what that meant, and slowly nodded.

And then Superboy was leaning in again, this time towards Dick’s lips rather than his cheek, mouth slightly open.

Conner felt as if a spark when through when he closed his mouth slightly, trying to grab the end of the cloth between his teeth, his lips inadvertently pressing slightly against Dick’s. They held there for a moment, staring at each other, lips barely touching, breathing heavy and both sweating before they realized what they were supposed to be doing.

Dick pushed at the cloth with his tongue again; helping as Conner pulled back and together they were able to yank it free from his mouth. Dick immediately licked his lips and stretched his jaw as Conner spit the cloth to the side. 

“Thanks,” Dick said, looking anywhere but at Conner. Nothing else was said for a few minutes and Conner began to think he misread Dick’s pause as their lips touched as horror. 

“Dick, I-“

His words were cut off as Dick leaned forward again and captured his mouth, a moaned mix of pain and lust escaped from Dick’s mouth and got lost in Conner’s. Their lips slightly parted, trembling with nervousness and pain, held there unmoving until Dick’s tongue tentatively moved between Conner’s lips, cautiously exploring. Conner went from staring into Dick’s eyes to closing his own as their tongues met. Their breathing quickened almost immediately as Conner pressed his lips harder against Dick’s for a long, deep kiss. Another moan emerged from Dick, but all Conner heard was the pain in this one and he quickly broke the contact.

“Dick, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” For a moment Conner had forgotten about their situation, about the blade that was draining life from the both of them. At that moment all that existed was that joining of their lips. But that moment had passed and all he could see was his friend losing the battle.

“I like,” Dick panted, his breath slow and ragged, “hearing you call me that.” It was then Dick’s eyes rolled back into his head as he slumped forward.

“Dick!” Superboy’s frantic scream was overshadowed by a wall to the room they were held captive in shattering, Sportsmaster flying past them and crashing into the wall on the other end of the room. Craning to look over his shoulder he saw Superman fly through the newly formed entrance. 

“Batman! Flash! They’re in here!” Superman moved towards them but was halted by Conner shouting at him to stay back.

“Kryptonite!” Conner shouted. Superman reluctantly kept his distance as Batman ran past him and rushed to Dick’s side.

With one gloved hand gently clutching the side of Dick’s neck, Batman examined the knife wound with his other.

“The blade,” Conner pleaded. The Flash zipped in and quickly cut him free from his bindings, Conner sinking back on his heels as Flash supported his weight. 

“Superman, get Superboy to Medbay. I can’t pull the blade out of Dick without causing more harm and I can’t have you take Dick with that blade in him.” Batman ordered, gently cutting at the rope binding Dick’s wrists. As the ties severed, Dick’s unconscious form slumped forward, Batman readily catching him, careful not to jar his shoulder. 

Superman moved towards Conner, instantly feeling the Kryptonite effects, but quickly wrapped an arm around Conner’s waist and his shoulder under Conner’s arm and flew away.

“Batman,” The Flash kneeled beside where Bruce was cradling Dick against his chest, checking the young man’s other injuries, “Let me take Grayson to the Watchtower. You take care of Sportsmaster.” Bruce looked to where the villain was now starting to awaken from the rubble of the wall he’d be thrown against, and then looked down at Dick who was fading as they spoke. Bruce was hesitant to let the boy leave his sights, but he knew Barry was right. 

With a nod from Batman, The Flash slid one arm underneath Dick’s knees and the other underneath his shoulders and lifted the young man into his arms, maneuvering Dick so that his head lolled against Barry’s shoulder. 

“I’ll take care of him,” Barry promised before zooming away from the scene with his burden. 

“And I’ll take care of him,” Batman growled, standing up and cracking his knuckles as he lunged at the man that took his son, closing the distance between the two of them with a fist. 

 

___________________________________________________

 

Bruce sat in the chair beside Dick’s bed, dressed in his uniform still but the cowl lay discarded with his cape on a chair at the other side of the Medbay room at the Watchtower. The league knew who he was, and now that Conner had discovered Nightwing’s identity, Bruce lost the interest in keeping his own from Dick’s team.

It was late and all that remained in the room was the young man lying in the hospital bed and himself. Wally had come and stayed for a while before Bruce kicked the young man out for constantly pacing; sitting still not being a strong suit of the former Kid Flash. Clark, Barry, Artemis, and M’gann left next, all torn between hovering and wanting to give Bruce and Dick some space. Barbara had stayed for another hour but her exhaustion had finally gotten the best of her and Bruce ordered her to go home, assuring her that he would inform her if there were any changes.

“Dick,” Bruce spoke quietly. “I hate that this happened to you. I hate that I didn't get their soon enough, that I didn’t get their first,” Bruce squeezed Dick’s left hand, the one that didn’t have two broken fingers from Sportmaster’s boots. The squeeze was gentle but solid, hoping Dick could feel it and know he wasn’t alone as he slept. “When you’re taken out of uniform, it’s like the identities don’t exist. All I can feel is dread and fear like a worried parent. I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. I’m sorry Superboy found the right location first and I wasn't there to protect you both.”

Bruce leaned his other arm on the chair armrest and brought his hand to his face, scrubbing it over his eyes, before resting his chin on it. Staying like that, head propped up on one hand, Dick’s held tightly in the other, Bruce lost track of time; forgot about sleep, about the cape and the cowl, forgot about Sportsmaster.

“Batman?”

Seemingly out of nowhere, a voice interrupted his trance. Bruce looked up to see Superboy standing in the doorway. He appeared hesitant as he slowly came deeper into the room. 

“It’s okay, Conner,” Bruce spoke. “You can come in. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Tired, but the effects of the Kryptonite have worn off,” Conner spoke quietly as he slowly walked into the room, hesitant to come too close it seemed. “Has he woken?”

“Briefly earlier. But he’s just resting now. He’s okay.”

“No he’s not,” he spoke again, his gaze fixated on Dick.

“Conner,” Bruce tried again.

“This is my fault,” Conner whispered. 

“Conner, listen to me.” Bruce raised his voice, standing from the chair to stand in front of the younger man. “What happened to Dick is not your fault.”

“It is my fault,” Conner stared at Bruce, his own voice rising. “If I hadn’t let those bastards get the jump on me, he would be recovering from some bruising, not a knife wound and blood loss!”

“Stop it!” Bruce grabbed the younger man by the shoulders and shook him a bit. “Now you listen to me,” Bruce spoke sternly, “None of this is your fault. They had Kryptonite, you were weakened. You could have been killed too. This happens. He has had worse, and he will probably have worse in the future. It comes with the job. Accept it.”

"I can’t,” Conner spoke quietly, breathing hard around his anger and anguish.

“You have to,” Bruce lowered his voice, but still keeping that stern quality. “You have to accept it because Dick will when he wakes up and if you get stuck on what happened, if you don’t keep up, you’ll get left behind. And Dick will kick your ass if you wallow in this.”

“You’re right,” Conner sighed, hanging his head, thinking about what Bruce had just said, before nodding. “I’m sorry.” 

“Look,” Bruce absently scratched at the back of his neck. “I need to change, get a cup of coffee or something. Will you sit with him while I’m gone?” Bruce was reluctant to leave his ward’s side but sensed that the young man needed some time with Dick. 

Conner nodded and Bruce patted him on the arm before leaving the room. Conner walked over to the chair and collapsed into it. He inched the chair as close to the bed as he could. He reached for Dick’s right hand and held it in-between both of his, squeezing it lightly, cautious of the IV lines.

“Nightwing” Conner started, his voice cracking slightly, “Dick. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Conner lifted the hand he was holding in his up to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss on the inside of his wrist. “We never finished our conversation from that day you asked me to call you Nightwing. I never got to tell you…never got to hear…Fuck. Look when you wake up, we have to talk, Nightwing to Superboy, Dick Grayson to Conner Kent.”


	6. Let it Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'But now we're slipping at the edge  
> Holding something we don't need  
> All this delusion in our heads  
> Is gonna bring us to our knees  
> So come on, let it go  
> Just let it be  
> Why don't you be you  
> And I'll be me'

Dick Grayson gazed out over the horizon; right leg was bent towards him with his right arm draped over it, while the other leg dangled over the edge of the rooftop. He rotated his left shoulder, pleased at the range of motion he had back as his wound was healing. He’d finally been cleared for active duty, after much scrutiny by Bruce and Alfred, and was on his first night of patrol since before he’d been abducted two weeks ago. 

It was late into the night and Nightwing was patrolling the rooftops of Gotham. It had been a pretty uneventful night, so here sat atop an apartment building across from the bridge to Manhattan, gazing out upon the city. It was almost time to turn in but there was something he loved about the 4 am cityscape, things starting to come alive as the city awoke.

“You might as well come out, I know you’re here,” he called out to the dark rooftop behind him, turning his head to look towards whoever was about to emerge. He had heard whoever his shadow was joined him atop the rooftop 20 minutes ago but they had yet to show themselves or to speak with him. It was too loud to be Batman, Bruce was way more stealthy than that. He had already checked in with Barbara and Tim. His suspicions were proved right as Conner slowly approached him and Dick smiled to himself before shaking his head.

“Didn’t we work on stealth with you?” Dick said, amused as Conner came to sit beside him on the rooftop’s edge. “This whole staring thing is starting to become a habit.” 

“Sorry,” Conner couldn’t help the blush that spread across his cheeks. “I talked to Tim and he had said it had been a slow night and where I could find you.” Conner handed him the brown paper bag he’d been holding. “I brought snacks.”

Dick accepted the bag, peeking in to reveal his Happy Harbor favorite, a giant bear claw from the donut shop a few blocks from Mount Justice. Letting a noise that could only be described as a squeal of delight, Conner watched as Dick devoured the pastry that was almost the size of his head in just a few bites. It reminded Conner of how their good friend Wally pretty much ate everything and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“You didn’t come all this way to bring me delectable treats I imagine,” Dick said as he licked the glaze off the fingertips of his gloved hand.

“I thought I’d keep you company,” Conner replied, not so convincingly based on the incredulous look he got from the masked man beside him. “Fine, I was hoping we could talk.”

“You can talk to me about anything, buddy, you know that,” Dick said, peeking into the brown bag to see if there were any fallen remnants of the bear claw before crumpling up the empty bag into a ball. Dick squared his shoulders, placed the fingers of his right hand under the balled up garbage and tucked his left elbow close to his body. He extended his right arm and flicked his wrist, tossing the balled up bag over the side of the building to land perfectly in the dumpster ten stories below. “Three points!” 

“Dick, I know this is your first night back but I feel like you and I haven’t had much of an opportunity to talk about what happened that night,” Conner finally blurted out. 

“I know,” Dick nodded, looking towards his friend beside him. “Look that’s not how I wanted you to find out my identity. I wanted to tell you sooner and in a more personal way, but the occasion never came up organically so-“

“I wasn’t talking about your identity, Dick. That’s just a name,” Conner sighed, looking away to gaze out on the cityscape. “That night, I felt something.” 

“Yeah, it’s called Kryptonite poisoning,” Dick quickly supplied.

“No,” Conner shook his head, turning his head to look at Dick who was staring at him expectantly. “I mean when you kissed me.”

“It was an accident. You were pulling the gag out of my mouth,” Dick was quick to shoot down everything Conner was saying and Conner knew it.

“After that Dick,” Conner was just as quick to call him out on it. 

“It was adrenaline, Con,” Dick shook his head. “I thought I was gonna die and I just wanted to feel something before I did.”

“Fine, then how about that night on the pier?”

“That was mouth to mouth, Conner!”

“No, Dick.”

“What do you want me to say, Conner?”

“That night on the pier,” Conner spoke, his voice urgent and begging Dick to be honest with him. “I was so scared I’d lost you and I knew I had just started to notice you differently, see you differently. The way you moved, the way you looked, everything. I’d never felt that rush that way before about anyone. Not even M’gann. And I knew I wanted you, to be with you.” 

As Conner spoke, Dick couldn’t help but think of when he was sixteen, when he first noticed Conner in a way he’d never thought he would after that sparring match.

“We never spoke of it. I suspected you felt as I did. That tension was there when we sparred or even just being alone in a room together. But our friendship, camaraderie, the success of the team, meant too much to sacrifice with teen lust. And then you were gone. And then I left to learn about myself and I realized after it all, I still wanted you. And when you came back we had to become reacquainted as teammates and I didn’t want to jeopardize it. Then Dick Grayson was taken by Sportsmaster and I thought I was going to lose you again So I’m here now, begging you to just tell me what’s going on between us.”

“I’m sorry, Conner,” Dick hung his head, looking anywhere but Conner’s face.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“No. When I left…you were my friends and I could have handled it differently. I should have told you beforehand what was going on in my head rather than just springing it on you guys. And I hurt you. And for that, I will always be sorry.” Dick suddenly stood from where he was sitting and started to pace the roof. “But that night on the pier, that night with the Kryptonite blade…I felt exposed, vulnerable. And not just from being injured. I can’t feel that way; I’ll put you and everyone at risk, including myself! So I don’t know what you want from me now.”

“Dick, I just want you to tell me what that kiss on the pier, what that kiss two weeks ago was,” Conner stood too, watching as Dick paced back and forth along the roof’s edge.

“And then what? We work together Conner, we’re teammates!” Dick’s hands were animated as he spoke. “What do you want, Conner? You want me to tell you that you’re all that I want. I can’t Conner. I can’t be vulnerable like that again.” 

“What do you mean again?”

“When I’m with you, in those moments, that’s all I felt was vulnerable. And vulnerable means helpless, defenseless, weak. I haven't felt that way since I was nine years old when I lost my whole world.” Dick was inches from Conner now, his brow furrowed, voice loud and shaking as he struggled to keep his emotions at bay. “And I can’t be…I can’t feel like that, Conner.”

Silence hung between them as Conner just stared into the whites of Dick’s mask, wishing he could look into those blue eyes.

“I just need to know Dick, that you feel what I feel,” Conner finally broke the silence, his voice quiet. 

Dick looked like he was ready to punch him, Conner fearing he may have pushed the young man too far. What he wasn’t expecting was Dick to grab Conner by the sides of his neck and pull him down, pressing his lips fiercely against Conner’s. 

Conner’s eyes went wide before squeezing shut, taking a moment to realize what was happening but it wasn’t long before the taste of Dick began to flood his senses. His response time was slow before he brought both hands up to the sides of Dick’s face, moaning with a hunger he’d felt only twice before this moment. 

It felt like an eternity and a blink of an eye at the same time as the kiss deepened before Dick pulled away sharply, gasping for air.

They gazed at each other, Dick’s hands still clutching Conner’s neck and Conner with his hands still on the sides of Dick’s face. Conner was panting; searching Dick’s face for any indication of what came next.

Dick opened his mouth to speak, but instead, he pulled away from Conner completely and launched himself off the building, a grappling hook quick to connect with an adjacent building as he fled.

Conner was left behind on the rooftop as the sun began to rise. Tonight’s conversation didn’t go exactly as he had planned. He did get an answer, however, not exactly the one or in the way he was looking for. But he knew now that something had awoken between them, and he wasn't ready to give up that yet.


	7. When We Were on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Swept out of sight, rolling up on an ocean  
> Let's cut all the ropes and get lost in the moment  
> If our hearts are alive, maybe then they might  
> Send us back to the sun'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Explicit sex in this chapter.

Dick ran a towel through his short black hair, leaving it sticking up in damp tufts before tossing it aside as he made his way out of the bathroom and into the hall. He was completely bare with the exception of the towel wrapped loosely around his waist, resting just below his hips. It was quiet in his loft, his first night off after a long week of being back on patrol after healing from his injuries. He looked at his phone on the end table near the entrance to the living room. He wanted to call Conner, wanted to apologize and wanted to invite him over or out or anywhere where they could talk. He should never have kissed him that night. 

Part of him wished he could take it back and they could just go back to the way things were before. The awkward sexual tension had to be better than not even talking, didn’t it? The other part of him wished he had taken it further and taken him right then and there on that rooftop. The truth was he couldn't get that moment out of his mind the past week. He craved those lips, had for quite some time. But the moment had passed and now he was afraid that they’d never get it back.

He walked past the phone and headed into the living room. As he moved deeper into the room he felt a breeze coming from the window that he knew he hadn’t opened. As he turned to look, he was suddenly grabbed by the hips and forced back against the wall of his apartment. His arms were grabbed and raised up over his head, crossed at the wrists. Conner’s broad body was so close to him, holding him tightly in place against the wall. 

“We never finished our conversation, and I’m not letting you bail this time,” Conner spoke softly, leaning in close till he was just a few inches from Dick’s face. He adjusted his grip so he was pinning Dick’s wrists together with just one of his hands. The other cupped the side of Dick’s neck, holding Dick’s face gently as he eyes stared into Dick’s. “We keep starting to talk but never finish, and tonight we are going to finish what we started. I have a lot more to say.”

Dick was breathing heavy as Conner spoke, his hand moving from Dick’s neck to trace the new scar on Dick’s left shoulder from where the Kryptonite blade had been buried deep. The touch was slow and sensuous as Conner held him against the wall, his eyes never stopped staring into Dick’s as his hand explored. Dick could sense the emotions, the desperation radiating off Conner. He felt the same way when he had kissed him the other night when he kissed him when he thought they were both dying not more than a few weeks ago.

“So say it,” Dick whispered breathlessly, daring the other hero to make his move.

Conner barely let him finish the words before he brought his hand back up to cup the side of Dick’s neck, his other hand still restraining his wrists, and dipped his head down to slam his lips against Dick’s. Conner’s mouth enveloped Dick’s, his tongue flicking almost violently against Dick’s as they kissed hard. Dick arched up against the wall, grinding against Conner’s body, his teeth nipping at the older boy’s lips. 

Still holding his wrists with one hand, Conner’s other hand moved from Dick’s neck as they kissed, down his chest and stomach to trace lower, sliding over the front of the towel to rub against his growing cock. First, his fingers glided, then squeezed through the cloth.

Dick’s head rocked back, pulling away from the kiss, groaning as his breath came short as Conner’s adept hand massaged his cock before his hand trailed back up Dick’s torso while proficient lips moved to press kisses along Dick’s jawline.

Conner abruptly moved away from the wall, pulling at the hold he still had on Dick’s wrists, spinning the smaller man till his back was facing him and one strong arm wrapped around Dick’s chest, pinning his arms down to his sides, while a hand clamped over Dick’s mouth. He was pressed back against Conner’s hard body, his head pulled back against Conner’s shoulder.

“Mmmmm,” Dick moaned, deep and low in his throat as his attacker kissed the back of his neck, licking his earlobe then gently biting at the lush flesh. Conner’s hands on him, the reckless abandon and brute strength like that night in the sparring room a few years ago sent the thrill through his body all over again. 

“I know we’ve both been waiting for this. Do you want this to happen now? Because if not I’ll let you go right now and we can just talk. Tell me if this is what you want,” Conner whispered right into Dick’s ear, his hot breath sending chills down his spine. Dick nodded as much as the strong hand tightly clamped on his face would allow. 

With that, Conner moved his arm from where it was wrapped around Dick’s chest, his hand now trailing down the side of Dick’s torso while his lips pressed kisses down the back of his neck before trailing his tongue back up till he got to his ear, Conner gently biting at the lobe.

Conner felt Dick’s lips move soundlessly beneath his hand, enjoying the shivers running through the smaller man’s body and the harsh breaths coming from his nose.

Dick tried to turn away as the tender skin behind his ear was paid close attention to by Conner’s lips, moving his hands behind him to grip onto Conner’s thighs. Then Conner released the hold on his mouth, bringing both hands to rest upon Dick’s hips where the towel rest.

Dick immediately turned to face him, bringing his right hand up behind Conner’s neck to grasp at his hair while the other clutched at the material of his black T-shirt at his bicep, pulling the taller man closer to him as he pressed their lips hard against each other. 

Conner spread his right hand across Dick’s bare lower back, one finger between the material of the towel and the small of his back, while his left hand gripped at the muscles of his bare shoulder as the kiss deepened.

There was no other noise in the loft except heavy breathing; deep lungfuls and sighs from Dick’s mouth, long inhales and exhales from Conner’s nose. The kiss was as messy and haphazard as it was long awaited. It was desperate as they plunged into each other’s mouth ruthlessly. 

As they kissed, Dick pushed Conner back against the wall, tugging at Conner’s T-shirt, their mouths reluctantly breaking contact for Dick to pull the shirt over Conner’s head and throw it to the floor. He paused, staring at the body he’d desired to touch like this for so many years, running his hands over the smooth skin, loving the way the muscles twitched against his fingers. He leaned in as his hands explored, running his tongue across Conner’s lips, catching the sigh as Conner’s mouth fell open and Dick’s tongue plunged in, lips sealed over lips. 

Conner slipped a hand between the slit in the front of the towel still wrapped around Dick’s waist and ran a hand up his leg, swallowing Dick’s moan as they continued to kiss. His fingers traveled up till they reached his cock, his fingertips gliding over the underside and the head. Not gripping and stroking, just lightly touching.

“Oh, fuck,” Dick moaned, pulling away from the kiss, head leaning forward onto Conner’s shoulder as the sensation caused his body to react.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this,” Conner whispered, moving both his hands to either side of Dick’s head, fingers entwining in his damp hair. He gently moved Dick’s head away from his shoulder, pushing him back just enough to look into Dick’s eyes.

“I mean it,” Conner whispered again. “Not just this part, but everything. You. Me.”

“Me too,” Dick replied, their gaze never breaking. “But let’s just worry about the sex part right now and do the ‘everything’ after.”

Conner laughed, dipping his head to lay kisses along Dick’s jawline, occasionally scraping his teeth against the freshly shaven skin as Dick set to work on Conner’s jeans. He unfastened Conner’s belt, tugged the fly open, shoving the material down over Conner’s hips hastily as Conner left soft bites along Dick’s neck, pausing when he reached his collarbone, tonguing the hollow of his throat till he was sure it would leave a bruise.

Dick moved back enough, allowing Conner to kick off his shoes and slide his pants and briefs down to the floor while Dick unwrapped the towel from around his own waist, both men now naked.

Dick held Conner’s face between his hands and kissed him deeply again. He jumped up, wrapping his legs around Conner’s waist as Conner brought his right arm behind Dick’s back and brought his left hand to hold Dick’s thigh.

Dick hunched down for a deep kiss, wrapped tightly in Conner’s grasp as the super boy slowly began to move them further into the apartment until his knees collided with the edge of the sofa, causing him to fumble forwards till they collapsed onto the couch. They separated from the kiss, laughing as they landed in a tangle of limbs upon the couch. 

“Nice to see we’re as agile as we were in our glory days of sparring,” Conner smiled, loosening his grip around Dick’s body as they settled. Not a moment later, Dick swung a leg up, wrapped it around Conner’s waist and with a twist, rolled them off the couch, tumbling in a heap onto the floor, Dick’s maneuver now giving him the upper hand to pin the bigger man to the floor.

“Yeah, and I can still always get the last move in,” Dick smiled, straddling Conner’s waist. Conner didn’t argue as Dick’s hungry lips pressed into his, their tongues plunging deep as Conner humped his hips up against Dick, their cocks grinding against each other as teeth nipped at lips and tongues battled for dominance.

Dick pulled away and, like a cat, bent over his old friend and new lover, crawling on his hands up the length of Conner’s body, pressing his belly hard against his, grinding his stiff prick against Conner’s own, both men groaning at the contact.

Dick’s hands pressed against his chest, warm as they caressed and explored up and down his skin, Conner’s muscles twitching at the erotic touch. Dick slowly let his hand roam down Conner’s side, squeezing the firm flesh at his waist and hip. Slowly sliding down Conner’s body, Dick tongued his way from Conner’s chest to his stomach, kissing every inch of muscled flesh as he went till he breathed over Conner’s cock.

He licked across the head, quickly followed by taking it down his throat, swallowing, causing Conner to arch up from the floor, moving his hands to thread through Dick’s hair, encouraging him to continue. Dick slid up and down the hard length of Conner’s cock, running the flat of his tongue across the underside and dipping the tip into the slit. He felt his whole body tense as he took him down his throat and swallowed again, lips sealed around the cock as he felt it pulse, cum spilling down his throat.

“Oh shit!” Conner cursed, biting his lip as he came.

Dick continued to suckle and lap at Conner as he felt him relax after his climax, his breathing evened out and Dick moved back up his body, kissing his way to Conner's lips. Leaning in, he licked along Conner’s lips before sliding his tongue into his lover's mouth, letting Conner taste himself and twisting their tongues together in slick heat.

Dick pulled himself up along Conner's body, straddling his chest. He reached out and ran his thumb across Conner’s bottom lip, pressing down until Conner opened his mouth and his tongue lapped at Dick’s thumb. He shifted till his cock bumped up against Conner's mouth, precum smearing across his lips. Conner brought his hands to Dick’s hips and pulled the smaller man down, Dick moaning loudly, bracing himself against the floor as Conner forced him down into his mouth, sliding further into his lover's throat.

He shifted for deeper access and started to fuck Conner’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat on each down thrust. Conner’s grips on hips kept the pace as he swallowed, humming in the back of his throat. Dick felt the vibration throughout his body and he exploded, sending his seed shooting down Conner’s throat. Dick continued to thrust through the aftershocks as Conner ran his tongue around his softening shaft, his cum filling Conner’s mouth.

Dick pulled out as Conner swallowed, moving backward to lay across Conner’s chest. Conner began running his fingers through Dick’s hair again before gripping his head and pulling him down for a hard kiss, their residual cum in each of their mouths mixing as they made out.

With one swift move, Conner wrapped his arms around Dick’s body and rolled them over till Dick was on his back, Conner smirking as he hovered over him. Dick reached his hands up to touch Conner but the bigger man caught him by the wrists. He pinned his arms against the floor on either side of Dick’s head.

Dick was sweating now in arousal and summer night heat. Conner watched a bead of sweat travel down his jawline towards the curve of his neck. He dipped his head to the exposed throat and captured it before the drop could travel any further and he could feel Dick shiver.

“Conner,” Dick panted, tugging on the grip that pinned his arms down, arching his back up to Conner’s touch.

Conner let go of his wrists, moved back, allowing Dick to lift his legs up to his chest as Conner moved back into position on top of him, sliding so Dick’s legs rested upon Conner’s shoulders. Conner’s eyes stared into Dick’s with the first gradual press of his cock as he pushed inside Dick. Every thought in his head fractured and stopped. Dick groaned, biting his lip as Conner's smooth length, warm and slick, slid in, the pressure of Conner’s width and heat feeling so good as he entered. 

Dick nodded frantically, giving permission to an unspoken question, squeezing his eyes shut and gasping through his nose as Conner’s cock, dry and so slow, pressed into him farther, pausing and pushing as Dick gyrated back. Conner pushed in further, further in till Dick felt his full weight against his body, pausing only to move a hand to wrap around Dick’s member, his own buried as deep inside of Dick as it could. 

Conner’s pulling out felt just as good before he slammed back into Dick with a force that pushed Dick’s body back across the floor.

“Uhnnn,” Dick moaned as Conner paused again, letting his cock rest in his ass. Dick blinked rapidly, fingers desperate to find something to grip as his hands pressed against the wood floors beneath him, short moans of pain and pleasure escaping as Conner caressed his cock.

Dick panted as Conner buried his face against the crook of Dick’s neck, yelping when Conner finally reared back on his knees, only to push back in so forcefully Dick’s body rocked across the floor. He felt his ass spasm involuntarily as Conner rocked into him; driving in and out in a steady rhythm that made his toes curl.

As Conner’s rhythm grew, Dick threaded his fingers through the hair at the back of Conner’s head, pulling his head towards Dick’s lips, kissing desperate, gasping into each other’s open mouths, and then kissing again, and then back to panting into each other’s mouths. 

Conner's thrusts knocked him back over and over as he pumped harder into Dick’s ass, pumping Dick’s cock in time with his thrusts, feeling his own desire gathering to its height. Dick knew he couldn't last much longer, this being the moment he waited for since he was sixteen. Feeling Conner's hard cock inside him, his weight holding him down, tasting Conner's grunts and moans between kisses, feeling the calloused hand around his cock; it was all too much. He felt the skin of his entire body shiver and flash with heat and knew from the intensity in his balls that he was going to cum. 

It was the whisper that did it. 

One word, his name; soft dry lips pressed deliberately to his ear as Conner rode him. Just the sound of Conner whispering his name and Dick was seeing bright lights behind his eyelids and panting through an orgasm which ripped through his body in waves and surged out of his cock to soak his and Conner’s chest. Dick felt his ass tighten around Conner's cock right before he heard Conner let out an animalistic growl and pick up speed. Dick was breathing hard and shaking under Conner's now rapid thrusts inside his body. 

The pressure inside him increased slightly as Conner's cock swelled. Conner cried out, grunted and stilled as he came, panting through the pleasure as his cock pulsed, sending waves of hot wet cum into Dick’s ass. He milked Dick’s orgasm right along with his, thrusting a few more times into his lover while he slowed his strokes of Dick’s cock until he was dry and softening in his hands.

Conner then collapsed onto the floor beside Dick. For a long while, the two men rested there, clasped close by Conner’s arms, panting as they both came down from their post-climax high. After a time, Conner slowly eased his embrace, and he twisted himself up to bend close over his companion. He gazed down at Dick for a long moment, saying nothing, just looking lovingly, running his deep gaze over the other man. 

Dick just stared up at him for a moment before wrapping his arms around Conner’s neck and pulled him down till he was almost lying on top of him, kissing him softly.

“Geeze, why didn’t we do this sooner,” Dick said around a sigh, stretching one arm behind his head as Conner shifted to lay beside Dick, laying soft kisses along his neck. “This is everything I’ve wanted since I first realized how I felt about you, Con. It makes me wonder where we would be if we’d had this conversation a year ago. Or two. How much time we wasted.”

“How different do you think our lives would have been if we had gotten together when we were younger?” Conner asked, wriggling his body till he was draped across Dick’s side, head cushioned on his shoulder. Dick raised his other hand and let his fingers card through Conner’s hair damp with sweat, fingertips grazing his scalp. 

“We’d probably have kept it a secret as not to throw off the team,” Dick thought out loud, Conner raising his head to look at Dick’s face as he spoke to him. “I’d be worried Batman would get pissed at me for compromising the general mission by dating a teammate. You’d probably be afraid of disappointing Superman. So we’d be sneaking around all the time, ducking into the empty training room or armory.”

“Could have been a lot of fun,” Conner smiled mischievously before leaning his head back upon Dick’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Dick chuckled briefly before becoming serious once more. “I don’t think it would have worked, though, then. We were young, so wrapped up in being ‘heroes’. I think we’d have been stuck where we were when we first started. Probably resent each other for holding us back from moving on. I’d still be Robin, still living in Batman’s shadow and never knowing anything else.”

“And I’d probably still be just Superman’s clone, never growing to become my own man.”

“We still would have had the falling out and it would have taken us even longer to come to this moment we’re in now.”

“If we ever could.”

“So it had to happen this way,” Dick nodded. “It wasn’t right then. We had to wait. I just wish we didn’t have to grow apart to come back together.”

“How do we know it’s right now?” Conner asked as maneuvered himself till his face was inches from Dick’s. 

“We don’t really, I guess. But we’re crime-fighters. We know what’s right and wrong for a living. Doesn’t this feel right?” Dick spoke, smiling softly, gazing deep into Conner’s eyes.

“More right than anything else.” Conner nodded.

Dick opened his mouth to say something but all thoughts were gone as Conner leaned his head up to kiss him deeply. Nothing else was said as they both drifted off, a tangle of legs and arms, as they fell asleep together on the wood floor.


	8. Get Out While You Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'So take your final look at me, maybe even take my hand  
> Steady on the staircase, come and chase the master plan  
> Long way to get away, play it like a grand slam  
> This is no encore, we have only just begun  
> So get out, get out, while you still can'

Nightwing tried to shake the fog from his head as he woke up to the sensation of lying face down on cold concrete. He kept fading in and out, barely aware as three men bound him tight with chains. One was effectively tying his ankles together while the second was binding his thighs, just above his knees. The third had started with binding his wrists together tightly behind his back but was now binding his arms together just above the elbows till his arms were uncomfortably touching.

Once they all finished, one of the men grabbed hold of his bound legs while the other held onto his upper body, lifting him off the ground and holding Nightwing horizontally in the air between them. Through hazy eyes and the feel of the gloved hands on his skin, Nightwing realized he had been stripped down to just his uniform pants and thankful at least for the familiar feeling of his mask still firmly in place. In the back of his mind, Nightwing knew he should struggle but whatever he had been hit over the head with really hit him hard. Nightwing had had enough concussions in his life to know this one was a doozy. He had faded out again as they carried him over to where a black bar was suspended five feet in the air by heavy steel chains. Lifting Nightwing higher, they swung his legs over the bar till it hit his knees. Making sure his legs were properly positioned over the bar, one man held his calves steady while the other slowly lowered Nightwing’s upper body before they both let go. He was left hanging upside down over the bar as the two men stepped away.

One of the men moved over to a crank, the other standing right in front of Nightwing. He turned the lever slowly, raising the bar and Nightwing another foot up off the ground. The man crouched down, grabbed the length of chain he left dangling from Nightwing’s elbow bindings and pulled it up, wrapping it around and through his ankle bindings. As he wrapped and pulled it till the chain was taught, he attached it to the chain at his elbows, effectively hogtying Nightwing in mid-air over the black bar. 

When he was finished, the other man cranked the lever again, a little faster this time, until Nightwing was raised about three feet and was at waist height of the man in front of him. A loud high pitched laugh that was immediately recognizable to Gotham’s former Boy Wonder was what finally jerked him awake.

Harley Quinn.

With the fog finally lifting, Nightwing was beginning to remember. Batman was at the Watchtower with the League, Tim and Barbara were on a mission with the team, leaving Nightwing to patrol Gotham. He’d promised to check in with Superboy during the night, especially if he needed assistance but the truth was, they both knew he wouldn’t. Since Wally’s death, Nightwing had left the team and was playing mostly as a solo act, bouncing between Bludhaven and occasionally working with his Batfamily. 

The night had been slow. An attempted mugging, convenience store robbing, and even vandalizing were all easily thwarted by the masked vigilante. Bored when nothing else presented itself, Nightwing decided to check out a few of the regular bad guy’s old hot spots just to make sure there was no recent activity. At his third stop, an old abandoned butcher shop that was once occupied by the Joker, Nightwing wasn’t in the place two minutes before he had been snuck up on and forced into unconsciousness by a heavy blow to the back of his head. 

And here he was, suspended and watching upside down as Harley Quinn approached him.

“Harley, you might as well save yourself the trouble and let me-nnnmmm,” Nightwing nearly choked as Harley forced a leather belt between his teeth, pulling it behind his head and fastening it tightly. The leather bit into cheeks, cleaving his mouth open, thick enough that Nightwing’s lips didn’t touch over the gag. 

“Brats should be seen not heard,” Harley smiled, bending at the waist to stare him in the face. Harley’s psycho grin looked even more disconcerting upside down.

Nightwing twisted in his bindings, working on loosening the chains at his wrists, letting out a string of curses behind the leather gag. If only they’d left his gloves on him.

“My my! Such a foul mouth for such a small bird,” Harley feigned shock before slapping him in the face. “Ya got good timing though, kid! Ya see, little boy, Me and Mista J had a bit of a falling out. He didn’t like that I had a crime spree affair on him with Ivy while he was locked up thanks to Daddy Bats. But you, bird boy, are my ticket to winnin’ my pudin’ back! Wait till Mista J sees what his pudin’ has gift wrapped for him!” Harley squealed, bouncing on her heels, clapping in delight. “Now we just gotta get you properly decorated.”

As Harley spoke, she smiled, grabbing a baseball bat with the tip wrapped in barb wire. She walked around to stand behind him, Nightwing trying to prepare for the onslaught he knew was coming. “I know we‘re going to have a lot of fun. But not too much! We’ll save that for Mista J. This is really only the beginning of all the fun we‘re all going to have together, like one big happy family.”

Nightwing couldn’t see Harley raise the bat but he braced himself, refusing to give his captor the satisfaction of seeing him scared, despite the tremendous fear he actually felt.

Braced for it though he thought himself to be, the first blow sent his entire body into spasm. The force sucked all the breath from his lungs, and he struggled for air around the gag. He fought the urge to scream, not wanting to give his captor the pleasure he knew she’d get from it. He bit down hard on the leather in his mouth and barely had time to register the intense pain when she struck him the second time. Nightwing’s body swung on the bar with the force of the strike. It was impossible that the second whack could hurt more than the first. But it did. It hurt a thousand times more. The wood smacked against his back, the metal spikes biting his flesh, and his body jerked forward. 

"Mmmmm!!!!" Nightwing couldn’t suppress the scream this time, unable to see his captor smile as her eyes traveled up and down his helpless form. As Nightwing gasped feebly, she struck him again.

He was struck across the left hip, and as Nightwing groaned a matching blow was delivered against the right side of his hip. She next swung a slashing line across his back again, and this time he heard Harley laugh as Nightwing swung with the bar from the blow. With only a slight pause to enjoy the reaction from her captive, she aimed her next stroke squarely at Nightwing’s shoulder blades.

“Ohhhhh! You’re splattered blood all over my new outfit!” Harley whined. “Oh well. It’s already ruined so I guess now it’s okay to get a little more messy. And I know you’re not gonna pay to have it dry cleaned so I’ll just have to make you pay another way.” The next couple of strikes came harder and faster. Nightwing twisted in his bonds. He writhed, flung himself aside, muscles in his legs shrieking their protest, but it was useless. It took all his strength to attempt to dodge the blows. He tried to work free from the chain bindings but the goons had done too good a job and breathing through the blinding pain of the thumps and tears was consuming all his effort.

He almost blacked out when Harley swung the bat directly at his knees, and he could hear the crack as well as feel his left kneecap shatter. The sound of his cry echoed the abandoned building more than any of his previous sounds of pain. The pain was excruciating and tears streamed beneath his mask. And then suddenly it stopped.

With his waning strength, his body slumped in its suspended state, his muffled cries reduced now to a constant moaning. His arms were legs and worn out from the bonds holding his weight. Pain coursed through his body, the wounds on his back and hips and arms radiating, his knee throbbing. He felt hands on him, tracing the fresh bleeding holes and already bruising patches. 

“This pain you’re feeling,” Harley whispered into his ear as she caressed Nightwing’s body, “is just the tip of the iceberg when the Joker finally comes home.” 

As she raised the bat for another round, Nightwing heard the unmistakable angry yell of Superboy as he came through the roof and attacked Harley’s goons. Nightwing passed out after witnessing the first blow. He wasn’t out for long because when woke up he was still suspended upside down and through blurry vision could see Conner tying them together to a post with a nearby chain. Taking a moment to assure himself that they were indeed indisposed and wouldn’t be able to sneak up on him, Superboy then turned to face where Nightwing was still suspended, panting heavily around the gag. 

“Damn it, Nightwing,” Conner sighed, running over to him. Conner made short work of the chains, Nightwing feeling a twinge of jealousy at the other boy’s strength as he tore at the bindings with such ease. Conner slipped one arm behind his back and the other between Nightwing’s knees and the bar. Nightwing bit into the leather still in his mouth, thankful for the gag as it stifled his cry slightly as Conner’s arm brushed against the welts across his body and jarred the injured knee. His hands gripped tightly into the sleeves of Conner’s shirt as Conner gently lifted his legs up over the bar and slowly lowered him to sit on the floor. Nightwing knew he would collapse if it wasn’t for the strong arm supporting his back, keeping him upright, and the other wrapped around his waist, Nightwing’s fists still gripped tightly onto Conner’s shirt as Conner kneeled down beside him.

Conner positioned Nightwing so he was leaning against him as he moved his supporting arms up for a moment to the back of Nightwing’s neck to unbuckle the strap, pulling the gag away from his mouth gently before laying a hand upon the side of Dick’s face.

“Con,” Nightwing rasped, his mouth dry and throat sore from screaming in pain. He tried to use Conner’s body as leverage to lift himself off the ground but Dick groaned in agony at the pain coursing through him, setting his nerve endings on fire. Every part of him hurt, and he knew trying to move was probably the dumbest thing he could do.

“We have to get you medical attention,” Conner said unnecessarily, shocked at the sight of the angry welts that decorated Nightwing’s back and sides and the swelling of Dick’s left knee. His chest was rising in shallow, uneven patterns as he breathes. 

“What are you doing here?” Nightwing gasped through pained breaths as Conner hoisted him into his arms once more and headed outside. Normally Nightwing would object, but the pain was too exhausting to care and that concussion was still eating at his focus. 

“I hadn’t heard from you,” Conner held him close, mindful of the injuries. “M’gann and I were finished with our Beta team mission and decided to come to Gotham. We flew over the city till you were in her telepathic range. When she finally felt your presence, she tried to make telepathic contact but all she could hear was your pain.”

“We have to…call the police…let them know…. Harley’s here so they...”

“Shhh,” Conner interrupted. “M’gann is waiting with the Bio-ship atop the roof in case I needed backup. I spoke to her telepathically already and she placed the call. We took care of it. Just forget about being the Boy Wonder for two minutes and let me take care of you.” 

“You didn't…need to…”

“Enough, Dick. We’ll talk later.”

Nightwing thought about responding but instead just sighed, nodded and leaned into the secure hold Conner had on him, letting his head fall to the Superboy’s shoulder, succumbing to the abuse he just went through and passed out in Conner’s arms. With a force driven by the need to get Dick to safety, Conner kicked off the street and leaped the height of the building to where the ship waited to take them back home. 

 

______________________________________________

 

Conner lunged up the top of the steps, catching Dick in his arms as Dick’s legs buckled and started to fall backward. 

“What in the hell are you doing?” Conner grunted as he steadied himself as he caught Dick, adjusting the young man in his arms. Dick just slumped against him, sighing in relief. “You’re pushing yourself too hard, too fast.”

“No one asked you,” Dick panted. “Now put me down.”

“If I hadn’t come along, Alfred would have found you in a heap at the bottom of the stairs,” Conner readjusted Dick so he had a better hold of him as he headed down the long flight of stairs.

“Alfie would have been pissed,” Dick agreed. Alfred was in the kitchen preparing dinner, Bruce was at the office, and Tim at school, leaving Dick behind to rest. Luckily Conner had decided to stop by and had just let himself in when he saw Dick trying to come down the flight of stairs before he stumbled. 

“You’re still not strong enough yet. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking.”

“I’m thinking why did I decide to recover here at the Manor that's ginormous if I can’t even walk around,” Dick sighed, trying to climb out of Conner’s arms. “You can put me down now, Conner, I can handle the rest of the steps.”

“Stop squirming or I’ll drop you,” Conner ignored Dick’s request, continuing down the stairs. 

“Oh, that’s rich. You go to all the effort to stop me from falling and then you drop me. Real ‘super’ of you. Goddamnit, Con, put me down!”

Conner just chuckled. 

“It’s not funny.”

“No,” Conner sighed, “it’s not.” Dick had lost a lot of weight and muscle tone in the weeks during his recovery. He had taken quite a beating, a couple ribs having broken, hip displaced, severe bruising and gashes across most of his body. The brutal beating had nearly crippled Dick and almost killed him. The worst injury had been the shattering of his left knee. The kneecap had broken, his patellar and quadriceps tendon tore. 

The kneecap had been completely shattered and replaced with an artificial cap in surgery. His left knee was now secured in a heavily strapped, metal hinged brace that went from his shin to his thigh. He was still supposed to be using his crutches and was supposed to be limiting strenuous leg movement, like stairs. He was going through intensive physical therapy in order to regain the use of it, and for Dick, that meant full recovery and he would accept nothing less. The problem was it was moving slow, estimated between two and six months and Dick was impatient.

“I’m tired of you carrying me around bridal style. It’s not nearly as romantic as you think it is,” Dick mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That’s it,” Conner didn't put him down as he walked the last few stairs, Dick still in his arms. “We have to talk.” 

Dick said nothing as Conner carried him into the large living room, bending down to gently lower Dick to the large black leather couch. Dick adjusted himself so he was sitting on its edge as Conner pulled the heavy cherry wood coffee table closer to the couch, sitting atop it directly across from where Dick sat. As Dick lifted his braced leg, Conner gently grabbed it and propped up onto the table beside him, Conner noticing the wince of pain as he moved the limb till it was in a comfortable position.

“Talk to me,” Conner clasped his hands between his knees, staring at Dick’s face as the other man looked off to the side, arms crossed over his chest and a look of aggravation between his tight lips and furrowed brow. “Dick we just started this thing between us, don’t shut me out now.”

Dick finally looked at him then, studying Conner’s face until his entire body language changed. Dick’s arms fell to his side, face relaxed as he stared up at Conner.

“I’m not trying to shut you out,” Dick’s voice was quiet as he willed Conner to believe him.

“Then what’s going on with you? You quit the team, you’re not checking in with me when you’re Nightwing and I only hear from you when you’re not.”

“I told you I needed a break,” Dick sighed, rubbing at the thigh of his injured leg. “Looks like I don’t have a choice now.”

“You’re lucky. If I hadn’t come after you-” Conner’s words trailed off as he tried to ebb the rising anger he was feeling. “You have been reckless ever since we lost Wally. You literally went looking for trouble that night.”

“I didn’t go looking for trouble,” Dick’s eyes shot daggers at Conner as his anger level rose to match his teammates. 

“Then what do you call it, hmm? What were you looking for that night.”

“You want the truth?” Dick challenged Conner, willing him to drop the conversation.

“You know I do,” Conner met Dick’s challenge, eyes piercing back at him.

“Reckless was the right word. I’ve been numb since Wally…since we lost Wally,” the anger dissipated as Dick hung his head, gaze fixated on his knee locked in the brace but his mind was elsewhere. “I’m overwhelmed with anger, sadness, guilt that it’s just all blended into this numbness and I just needed to fall without the net, not think about a consequence. I didn’t expect to find that kind of trouble but that’s what I get.”

“You sound like you think you deserved it,” Conner stared incredulously and sadly and the man he’d come to care very much about. 

“Don’t I?” Dick looked up to Conner then, eyes filled with sadness. “It’s my fault. I dragged them back in. Wally’s death is on me.”

“From what I understand, it was their idea. Dick, they chose-“

“No, they just think they did. Don’t you see it!” Dick interrupted, refusing to let Conner finish. “The mission was the most important thing. I put the mission ahead of my friends' lives by enlisting Artemis to fake her death, to have Kaldur go undercover. I’ve done everything I can not to be The Batman and in his absence that’s exactly what I became.”

“Is that why you left the team? Because you feel guilty?” Conner tried to reach a hand out to the ones resting on Dick’s knees, but his lover pulled them away.

“I should have stopped them! I was their leader! And now Wally is dead. The cost was too much.” Dick buried his face in his hands, Conner just looking at him, pained at the torment Dick was putting himself through. Once Dick had control of his emotions, he then moved his hands to thread through his hair before dropping them to his lap and looking up to catch Conner’s gaze. 

“Right before I became Nightwing,” Dick’s voice was calm and even, voice mixed with a twinge of sadness and fondness of the memory he was about to share, “I visited Wally and Artemis in Palo Alto. I told them I was going to rejoin the team. Wally told me not to, to get out while I can and enjoy my life.”

“Do you regret not listening to him?” Conner asked. A small, sad smile pulled at Dick’s lips as he leaned forward to clasp Conner’s hands in his own.

“I regret the result, the loss of Wally and the sacrifices made by Artemis and Kaldur,” Dick nodded, eyes still fixated on Conner as he gripped the hands tighter in his. “But I don’t regret coming back. I believe Nightwing was who I was meant to become, and I think I lost what that was all about trying to be to our team what Batman is to the Justice League. And I don’t regret starting this thing between you and me.” 

“Good,” was all Conner said as he leaned forward and closed the distance between them, forehead pressed against Dick’s. They looked at each other almost cross-eyed, their hands still holding on tightly to each other between them.

“What if we left right now,” Dick’s voice was quiet, eyes closed as he brought his hands up to either side of Conner’s neck, thumbs gently gliding across his jawline. “What if we just quit this hero business altogether and just go live quiet lives. Would you go with me?”

“In a heartbeat,” Conner didn’t even need to think about the question Dick asked. He was falling for Dick hard and as Dick would say, without a net. “But as much as this life is all I’ve ever know, I know what this life means to you. Could you really walk away?”

Dick sighed heavily, not saying anything in response but shaking his head as he pulled his forehead away from Conner’s, eyes fixated on Conner’s chest as he slowly started to trace the red shield with a finger.

“If what you really want is to work alone, then I’ll respect your decision,” Conner's voice was barely above a whisper, “but you should know we don’t see you as our Batman. You’re our Nightwing and our team needs you. I need you. You’re gonna be out of commission for a few weeks and I know you’ll feel stuck. But promise me something.”

“What?” Dick whispered back, stopping his lazy tracing of the emblem on Conner’s shirt to look at his friend, his lover, in the eyes. 

“I know you’re overwhelmed right now. But promised me you’ll get whelmed, and get out of this rut while you still can.”

Dick couldn't help the chuckle that escaped as he pulled his hands free from Conner’s. Using his good leg, he maneuvered himself off the couch and positioned till he was sitting on Conner’s lap on the coffee table.

“Okay, let’s get off this table before Alfie yells at us,” Dick kissed Conner briefly on the lips. “Now carry me bridal style to my room. Let’s use this downtime wisely.”

“Alright,” Conner effortlessly slid his arms beneath Dick’s legs and lifted the former boy wonder up into his arms as Dick wrapped his loosely around Conner’s neck, holding on as he carried him towards the staircase. “But remember, you’re not supposed to be doing anything too strenuous.”

Dick just smiled, giving Conner a wink. “Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.”


	9. Move Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Home now, end of the night  
> It's colder to turn on your side  
> And I know you're up in two hours  
> But we didn't get tonight, we don't have tomorrow  
> So don't ruin now.  
> How we gonna move together? Just come closer  
> If we don't move together, just come closer  
> How we gonna breathe? How we gonna be together?  
> Just keeping the peace between the sheets'

Conner carefully balanced the two coffees and box of donuts as he made his way towards the front door.

“Dick?” Conner called as he finally got the door open, “You here? I have breakfast!” It was dark in the entranceway, the very beginnings of morning yellow tones highlighting the apartment through the windows. No lights were on anywhere and there was nothing to give any indication that someone was home. Conner frowned, knowing for a fact that Dick should be there. It was 8 am which meant he had two hours before Dick would have to start his day life. Dick was usually just getting up by now in the kitchen, preparing a bowl of cereal and a protein shake at this hour so Conner couldn’t help the cold feeling of unease settled into the pit of his stomach as he struggled to hit the light switch without dropping anything, letting the door swing shut behind him.

The darkness increased drastically as the door clicked shut; only a muted glow managing to soften the shadows crept in from the windows. Finally, Conner managed to flip the hall-light switch as he toed off his shoes.

He left the coffee and donuts on the kitchen counter before heading towards the hallway. He saw the Nightwing costume strewn on the middle of the hallway floor. 

“Dick?” he called again, moving further down towards the bedroom. No one answered or gave any indication of hearing him. No one seemed to be there at all. That feeling of unease began to grow and he started to move more quickly. As he turned the corner into the bedroom entrance, he instantly relaxed. 

Dick was sprawled out on the bed, face down, only three-quarters of his body actually on the mattress. His right arm and leg dangled over the side. His left arm was bent down towards his body at what looked like an uncomfortable angle; his left leg was bent at the knee, his foot the only thing tucked underneath a sheet that was all but falling off the bed. He was only wearing boxer briefs and what looked like fresh gauze wrappings around his chest, left thigh, and left bicep. Conner also noticed Dick was wearing an ankle brace on his right foot and a bandage peeked out of the waistband of his briefs on his right hip. 

Conner sighed, shaking his head at his lover. He walked over to the right bedside table and noticed that the alarm hadn’t been set. That usually meant that Dick hadn't gotten in till very late.

He circled the bed to the other side, peeling off his t-shirt as he walked and gently climbed in beside Dick, careful not to jar or make too much movement. He closed his eyes in a wince as he heard the bed creak as he moved to lie on his side facing Dick, holding his breath, hoping Dick hadn’t noticed the noise or movement. Cracking one eye open, he saw a pair of sleepy blue eyes staring back at him in amusement.

“Sorry,” Conner whispered, leaning his left elbow against the pillow to prop his head up, resting it on his palm. His right hand reached out to brush Dick’s hair out of his face. 

“S’okay,” Dick said, smiling sleepily at him as he shimmied his way closer to Conner, moving to cuddle against him.

“What time did you get in?” Conner asked, running his hand through Dick’s dark hair, leaning in to press his lips against Dick’s as Dick wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling their bodies closer together.

“Mmm, warm,” Dick sighed contently, sleepy smile still on his face as he pressed their chests up against each other, nuzzling his head into Conner’s shoulder. “Five-ish, I think.”

Three hours of sleep, which meant Dick was probably going to skip the first half of the day and spend a few more hours in bed. Conner was perfectly okay with that. In the chaotic life they lead as crimefighters, those few hours of calm they got here and there was bliss. And if today meant just holding the man he cared so deeply about, he would take what he could get. 

“Go back to sleep, babe,” Conner kissed the top of Dick’s head, wrapping his arms around the other man, holding him closer. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Dick tilted his head up and pressed his lips against Conner’s, forceful but tender, before slipping a lazy tongue into Conner’s mouth, their tongues twisting together briefly before Dick pulled away. It was a promise of more to come later, Conner knew, as Dick lay a soft kiss on his neck, nuzzling his head back onto Conner’s shoulder, drifting back asleep. Conner mused as he held his lover close, at how perfect this moment felt and couldn't help but hope that it lasted. 

They weren’t a perfect couple. They never claimed to be and never tried to be. They were very different men. Conner could be a hothead, impulsive and stubborn which often clashed with Dick’s own brand of stubbornness, impatience, and self-burdening responsibility, especially within their team dynamic. But what defined them as the men they were is also what defined them as a couple. They were passionate, determined and even where they were different, they brought each other into a balance that was delicate and complimentary. Dick had a playful sense of humor, Conner a deadpan and sarcastic one. Dick often jumped first, found a net second, and possessed a kindness and a charm about him that somehow endeared every member of the league and could maintain friendships with every one of his exes. Conner, on the other hand, reacted first, usually with his fists, and had little social skills or charisma about him. He’d come a long way since his leaving of the Cadmus pod but still struggled to find his place in it all. Conner wasn’t sure if it had been their evolved work friendship that ignited their lust and love for each other or if it was the other way around but it didn’t matter either way. This was their story, their journey, and he wouldn't change a thing. Because they weren’t perfect, but they were complete.

Conner allowed himself to drift off as he got lost in his thoughts, holding his lover closer, disappointed they didn't get their yesterday together but looking forward to the tomorrow ahead.


	10. Collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'All I know is I love it when our shit blows  
> We keep turning red  
> Hot, stone cold, sweet burn inside  
> Deals get broke we fall in and fall out, we're too close  
> It's dead love until curtains close  
> We come alive'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Explicit sex in this chapter

“Look, Conner, I’m busy tonight so I don't think you should come in. ”

“That’s too bad ‘cuz I was kinda hoping we could, ya know, talk.”

“I got nothin’ to say,” Dick said tersely as Conner turned the car off.

“For fuck’s sake, Grayson, I’m trying here,” Conner said, turning in the driver seat to face Dick beside him.

“Trying?” Dick’s eyes blazed in anger. “Trying to what? Apologize? Excuse? Shove it up your ass.”

“It was a kiss, that was it. It was a heat of the moment, it didn’t mean anything!”

“The hell it didn’t. It was with M’gann. I know how much she meant to you, still means to you,” Dick snapped back, slamming the passenger door behind him as he started to walk towards his loft apartment. Conner sighed, exasperated as he turned the car off and quickly exited, chasing down the pathway after Dick.

“It’s not like that, Dick. I don’t feel that way about her anymore. I haven’t for a long time and you know that.”

“I mean it’s not like it matters. It’s not like we put a label on this,” Dick’s voice lowered into a quiet anger that worried Conner more than any yelling ever could. Dick always had a carefree lightness about him. He was passionate, even when he was yelling. But the quiet anger, the void of lightness or passion intimidated Conner. 

“Dick, I can’t believe you're mad about this. You of all people, the guy who used to be known as the ‘dog’ of the team,” Conner laughed, shocked at Dick’s anger.

“Yeah, well…” Dick faltered, turning to face Conner. “that was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before us!” 

Conner said nothing in response to Dick’s words. All mild amusement and aggravation at the situation gone with those words as realized what Dick had just said.

“Us, what does that even mean,” Dick scoffed as he turned away from Conner. “I mean why even bother labeling it. I’ve never been into labels. I mean I’m a poor carnie kid who was raised by a millionaire playboy. And by night I’m a masked vigilante fighting for justice, which technically makes me a criminal. Not really a normal life that can fit normal labels,” Dick rambled as the quiet anger transformed into sadness and Conner went from intimidated to heartbroken. “I mean I don’t even label my sexuality. A lot of the women I’ve been with would disagree with me saying I’m gay but the men I’ve been with would agree. I like to think of myself as an equal opportunist. And you, well what the fuck do we label you.”

Conner stayed quiet as Dick rambled as they headed up the stairs to the loft. He wasn’t really talking to Conner anymore, just lost in his own out-loud thought pattern. It seemed to Conner that Dick was actually mad at himself for getting mad that Conner had kissed M’gann in a moment of celebration when she’d finally accepted the Justice League’s offer to be a member. 

Dick finally seemed to remember that Conner was behind him as they reached the top of the stairs outside the front door. He turned back to Conner and suggested that maybe Conner should leave and spend the night back at his own apartment in Metropolis instead of Dick’s apartment in Bludhaven while they cooled off. 

“I’m not leaving, Dick,” Conner responded softly. Dick stared at him, his jaw clenched, the anger returning, hands fisted before he threw them up in frustration.

“Fine. You stay, I’ll go,” Dick pocketed his keys and turned to walk down the loft stairs they’d just come up. Conner stepped in front of the access to the stairs, blocking Dick’s escape. Dick just stopped short of colliding with Conner, head down, body visibly shaking.

“Move, Con,” Dick said in a low, steady voice, head bowed, breathing through his nose, body rigid, eyes remaining fixed on the floor.

“Nope. Not happening,” Conner replied casually. Dick still refused to look at him. “Can’t even stand to look at me, Dick?” he sighed, staring at his lover, resisting the urge to shake him.

Dick’s eyes darted up, looking directly into Conner’s sad blue eyes. Dick just clenched his jaw more and lunged to dart past him. Conner knew what to expect though and grabbed Dick by the arms. Dick brought his fists up and clutched at Conner’s shirt. He struggled, trying to push Conner away from him, but Conner just held him at arm's length.

“Dick, if I would have known it would hurt you I’d take back. But I thought you knew that you were the only thing I want.” Dick stopped his thrashing then, shaking as Conner held onto his arms. Conner, ducking his head to look into Dick’s eyes, spoke even quieter now. “You’re right, we never labeled it. Never said what we really felt, even though I thought we both knew it. Maybe we should have said it out loud. But I need you to know you’re everything, Dick. I love you.”

Dick was still now, taking a deep breath or two before looking up at his lover. He’d said it. Everything Dick was afraid of, of being completely committed to a person and Conner went and said it. That was why he was really mad. He knew the kiss meant nothing but he was mad at himself for thinking that it did, for the twinge of jealousy he felt that Conner’s lips were somewhere else, angry at himself for feeling as strongly as he did for Conner. It wasn’t that Dick was afraid of being in love, Dick wore his heart on his sleeve. Everything he did was with his heart, he just never thought anyone would capture it like the man staring back at him did. Conner went to say something else but Dick wouldn’t let him.

“Ahh-mmmm” Conner moaned as his back slammed against the door and his mouth was devoured by Dick. His back arched up from the wall as Dick used one hand to pin Conner’s body against the wall while the other fumbled in his pocket for the key to the apartment. Finally finding the key, Dick groped for the door handle without looking, never breaking away from Conner’s lips. Their hips thrust against each other just as the key finally found its mark and slid into the keyhole so they could open the door and continue in private, hopefully in the bedroom but at least lucky enough to get into the apartment before it got any further.

Dick pulled away reluctantly, but only long enough to drag the other man by the shirt collar into the apartment and slam the door shut behind him. Conner immediately forced Dick against the door and the two set to work undressing each other.

Dick’s hands were on him, working at the buttons on Conner's shirt. Conner was too impatient for buttons and pulled Dick’s shirt up over his head before working on Dick’s pants. He tugged the fly open and shoved the material down over his hips hastily, exposing Dick's cock, already rock hard.

Dick groaned and managed to pull the last button free and Conner helped him pull it off when Dick slid the material down over his shoulders.

Conner removed his own belt and his pants slid down to the floor. Dick jumped up, wrapping his legs around Conner’s hips, back pressed against the wall. He reached down and grabbed Conner by the hair, dipping his head so their lips meet in a long, steamy kiss that made both their bodies ache. 

Conner moved away from the wall, bringing an arm up to brace Dick’s back to keep him on his hips, as he walked them towards the bedroom, Dick’s talented lips trailed up and down Conner’s neck, giving Conner chills down his spine. 

As they reached the bedroom and Conner’s knees hit the end of the bed, Dick slid off Conner’s hips to land kneeling atop it. Dick grabbed Conner’s wrists and gave a light yank, pulling him towards him. With a smooth movement, Conner came to kneel on the bed, the two just staring at each other. Dick pulled on Conner’s wrists and captured his hands between them in one hand and circled Conner’s back with the other. Conner leaned down for a deep kiss, wrapped tightly in Dick’s arms.

When they pulled away from the kiss it was as if time moved in slow motion, the embrace easing slowly. Dick just gazed up at Conner for a long moment, saying nothing, just looking lovely, hand’s traveling up to Conner’s chest and making soft comforting movements. Conner just ran his deep gaze over the man kneeling in front of him, hands resting on Dick’s hips, thumbs massaging gently as they moved across the skin.

This told Dick everything they weren’t expressing in words earlier. Just moments ago they were fighting, then blood was pumping and their hands and lips were unable to be kept off each other. And now, here they were silent, their eyes the ones unable to tear away from their lover’s gaze. 

It was Dick who broke the silence after he leaned in for a soft kiss, gentle and sincere. 

“I love you, too,” Dick grabbed his face in his hands, voice hardly a whisper before he crushed his lips to Conner’s. His blood pumping again, Conner groaned as the tongue ravished his, Dick’s mouth swallowing the moan. Dick suddenly pulled away and twisted, throwing Conner back against the bed and with acrobatic expertise, swung his body, knees settling on the outside of Conner’s thighs to straddle him. 

Dick slowly slid down Conner’s body as he tongued his way from his lover’s chest to his stomach, kissing every inch of flesh as Conner’s hands slowly glided over Dick’s body. Conner then grabbed Dick and pulled him backward, Dick stumbling to fall back against Conner’s body.

“Con,” Dick chuckled, as his back crashed into Conner’s chest.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Conner smiled against the back of Dick’s neck. He nibbled on Dick’s earlobe, his hands still gripping on Dick’s hips as he lay on top of him. Dick surrendered instantly, shifting so his ass was in line with Conner’s pelvis. 

Dick bent his arms back and over his head, one hand’s fingers threading through Conner’s hair, the other gripping onto the headboard, grinding his hips down as Conner’s cock pushed against his hole. 

“Oh fuck,” Dick moaned as Conner’s grip on his hips tightened, his cock thrusting up into Dick. Sprawled across Conner, Dick’s body arched up off Conner’s with each thrust. 

As Conner pushed up into him, Conner moved one of his hands from Dick’s hips to pump Dick’s cock in time with his thrusts. He thrust harder and faster, buried deep inside as Dick continued to ride him. 

Dick arched back, his neck stretching as he sucked at the flesh at Conner’s neck as his lover thrust into him while squeezing and stroking his shaft. Dick’s body clamped down on the cock inside him as Conner pushed in twice more until finally feeling himself begin to come. With a few more thrusts and pulls, the two men came together, Conner inside of Dick and Dick inside of Conner’s hand. 

Conner slumped back in bed and Dick collapsed backward onto Conner, still feeling Conner’s cock twitch inside of him, both men panting. They stayed like that for a few minutes as they came down from the high of the orgasm before Dick lifted himself up off of Conner just enough to turn to lay on top of him, chest to chest. 

“Ooof,” Conner laughed as Dick unceremoniously sprawled himself on top of his lover. 

Dick trailed a hand down Conner’s face gently while the other massaged his chest, staring into Conner’s eyes. Conner held Dick close to him, his own hands running gently down Dick’s bare ass and caressing his muscular thighs before rubbing small circles at the small of his back.

“I told you I loved you, right?” Conner smiled up at Dick. Dick smiled back before grabbing Conner’s chin gently and forcing their lips together. Dick kissed him deeply and slowly, breathing him in as Conner did the same, trying to put every once of what he was feeling he had into that passionate kiss. 

As their tongues danced behind sealed lips, Conner could feel Dick’s smile against his mouth. They pulled away slowly and Dick folded his arms over Conner’s chest, resting his head upon them as he gazed at Conner as Conner took his face in his hands, running the pads of his thumbs over his face.

“I’d rather fight with you every night for the rest of our lives,” Conner’s voice was shaky but firm, trying to express to Dick just what he needs him to hear, “ than to live a day without you. It starts in my stomach, then my chest gets tight, and my throat constricts every time I think about you. It is the most alive I’ve ever felt.”

“Well, now a simple ‘I love you too’ just won’t be enough,” Dick’s eyes gleamed with lust and love and Conner knew he felt the same. “So let me show you.”

As Dick slowly slid down Conner’s body, Conner knew they were in for a long night of showing each other just how much love there was between them.


	11. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'And as soon as I can hold you once again  
> I won't let go of you, I swear  
> We live through scars this time  
> But I've made up my mind  
> We can't leave us behind anymore'

The sun had just begun to set when they had left the parking garage near the zeta tube from Mount Justice to Bludhaven. The drive home was void of conversation. Dick had kept his eyes fixated on the road ahead while Conner stared out the passenger window.

As Dick pulled the car into the loft garage, Conner reached behind the seat to get his duffel. The stretch aggravated his healing injury, a small grimace of pain concealing the actual amount of pain it had caused. The kryptonite bullet to the side nearly killed him, but Nightwing had pulled it out in time. They were able to patch him up in med bay and released him with orders to go home, rest and allow his body to recover from the effects of the injury and toxic mineral in his bloodstream. It was close, and all though he wasn’t used to being injured like this thanks to his powers, he’d seen his friends suffer and endure much worse, including his silent lover. It would take more than that to shake Superboy. 

They walked up to Dick’s loft entrance, the young man fumbling with the keys. Conner’s home was technically his apartment in Metropolis but he spent more of his downtime at Dick’s place than his own. He had planned on just crashing in his quarters at the mountain but Dick insisted on him coming back to rest at his place. After a few seconds, Conner resisted the urge to place his hands over Dick’s shaking ones as he, at last, put the key in the lock and opened the door.

With a sigh, Dick headed straight up the stairs and towards the kitchen. Conner followed silently up the flight but went towards the bedroom to unpack. As he placed the clothes in the drawer he couldn’t help but think back on Dick’s shaking, hesitant hands trying to put the key in the lock. It was a stark contrast to the steady, strong ones that had so expertly pulled the green glowing bullet from his wound. Conner immediately ceased his task and went to find Dick.

He stood at the counter, shaking hands chopping vegetables for the soup he had promised to make for dinner. Conner slowly came to stand behind Dick and placed his hands on his shoulders. He slid them down the length of Dick’s arms slowly until he came to his hands. Dick dropped the knife and let out a shuddering sigh and Conner could feel Dick’s body trembling slightly.

Conner guided Dick to turn around to face him, lifting his right hand to Dick’s left cheek, the back of his hand stroking gently. Dick slid his left hand up into Conner’s, halting his stroking at their hands clasped, but Dick refused to look at Conner. His breathing just hitched, eyes closed and head bowed, hand clutching to Conner’s at the side of his face. 

Conner pulled away just enough to steer them towards the hall, stopping outside the bathroom door. Dick stood there unmoving, trying to hold his emotions in, breathing heavy through his nose, still not meeting Conner’s eyes. With little help from his lover, Conner unbuttoned Dick’s shirt and slid it down his arms and off his body. He paused a moment to look at Dick’s torso, smooth and defined muscles, lightly tanned skin, covered in scars. Although he was very used to seeing Dick shirtless, it always hurt his heart a little to see Dick’s beautiful body covered in reminders of years of abuse, cuts, stabs, bullet holes, and healed wounds from years of being the teenage superhero. With a sigh, Conner returned to his task. Lowering his hands he unfastened Dick’s jeans and pushed them down over Dick’s hips, letting them fall to his ankles along with his briefs, Dick stepping out of them. Conner then undressed himself, gently but not as slowly, and moved them into the bathroom.

Conner steered Dick into the standing shower, turning on the water before placing his hands on Dick’s hips. As the water cascading over them, Conner turned Dick around to face the wall with his back to him. Grabbing the soap, Conner started to lather up Dick’s back, massaging his shoulders. 

Conner traced lines down Dick’s bare back as he washed and smiled as Dick’s body lightly jumped at the touch. Conner slowly moved his fingers to hover over the various scars that decorated Dick’s skin, tracing bullet wounds on his shoulder and hip, long lines from shoulder blade to neck and another down his spine. Conner knew a lot of the stories to most of the major injuries Dick had sustained over the years. He had been with him when he received a few of them. Conner was fascinated by them. Being who he was, he really couldn’t scar unless it was a Kryptonite wound. He’d researched it once, wanting to know just what kind of abuse, what kind of pain it took to leave these kinds of marks. Having studied and explored a hundred times while his lover slept, Conner had practically memorized every mark on Dick’s body. He didn't know every story, but neither did Dick. Small ones from shards of glass, knife slices in the heat of battle, burn marks, a gash on the back of his thigh from shrapnel in some explosion Dick couldn’t recall, and the like.

Dick turned in the shower to come face to face with his lover. Dick looked at where the bullet had hit Conner, a tentative hand tracing the scar, his fingertips just hovering over the skin before lightly making contact. The tears started to flow now.

It was then that for the first time since they left Medbay Dick looked up into Conner’s eyes, reaching two hands up to the sides of Conner’s neck, his palms pressed firmly against Conner’s skin. Conner leaned forward, the shower water cascading around them as he touched his forehead to Dick’s.

Conner watched as tears squeezed out of the corners of Dick’s closed eyes and slowly traced the contours of Dick’s cheekbones, clinging to his skin as the water of the shower made its own tracks down Dick’s face. But Conner’s eyes followed the path of the tear as he lifted a hand to Dick’s face. Letting his palm rest upon his cheek, Conner’s thumb glided gently at the hollow of Dick’s cheek, catching the tear with the pad of his thumb.

And then the levee broke. The thought that he had some close to losing the person he believed to be indestructible broke Dick down into sobs, his body shaking violently. Conner moved his hands from Dicks hips and wrapped one around his slim body, the other lifting to rest his hand at the back Dick’s head, fingers stroking through the jet black hair, his cheek pressed against the side of Dick’s forehead at his hairline, holding him tightly against his chest and deep into his arms. Dick all but collapsed into Conner’s embrace, wrapping his own arms around Conner’s back and clung to him as he cried. His fingers dug into Conner’s shoulder blades, relishing the feel of Conner’s warm skin, burrowing his face into the crook of his neck and shoulder, cheek pressed to Conner’s throat as he cried. All Conner could do was hold him tight, hold him close as the water flowed over them, and let Dick know that he hadn’t left him. That he was still here.


	12. Incomplete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I don’t wanna look down  
> I don’t want us to break up in the cloud  
> All I want is to stay us, to stay with you now  
> And the world will turn and we’ll grow  
> We’ll learn how to be incomplete'

Bludhaven was quiet this time of day, about the only time of day that it was. It was that hushed lull of the day that stretched no more than an hour between the two phases of the city. Left-over stragglers of the nightlife had finally retreated to their homes and the day workers hadn’t yet started to appear from theirs. It was just about dawn, the dark sky still hanging heavy but the first appearance of light was beginning to break.

It was Dick’s favorite time of day. He was usually just getting home from patrolling the city and heading to bed at this time. He would strip off his uniform, shower and change into sweats, bandage any injuries or put pain relieving gel on any sore muscles. Much like the city, this was his quiet lull between his two phases; the time between ‘Nightwing’, vigilante, heir to the Dark Knight, charming young hero and ‘Dick Grayson’, retired acrobat, adopted son of Bruce Wayne, and equally if not more charming than his hero alter ego. 

As Dick stood on the fire escape of his apartment with arms leaning over the metal railing, freshly bandaged and showered, dressed only in a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants, he clasped his hands together and gazed out across the cityscape. An early morning summer breeze blew through his still-damp dark hair and exposed upper body. With a tired smile on his face, Dick sighed contently, feeling the breeze, feeling the tranquility, feeling a sense of peace.

He wasn’t startled when he felt a warm, familiar body slide up behind him, strong arms curled around his waist. Conner pressed a kiss to the side of Dick’s neck before pressing closer against him and resting his chin on Dick’s shoulder. Dick leaned his head back and sunk into Conner’s embrace as they watched the sun slowly rise. 

Having Conner share this moment with him, this calm respite between night and day, between identities, in a moment where there was no villainous threat or personal responsibility, meant more to Dick than he thought it would. It may not be one of those profound moments in their relationship that changed them forever. It wasn’t their first kiss, which they still debated if it was when Conner gave him CPR and Dick demanded more, or that time Dick was kidnapped and their lips pressed against each other as Conner removed a gag from his mouth and sparks flew, or that fleeting kiss on their rooftop rendezvous. It wasn’t the first time they made love or their first time saying the three words that had terrified Dick to say because that meant he had something to lose before he realized that Conner was the thing he couldn’t bear to be without. Standing here on the fire escape attached to the apartment Dick and Conner now shared after his lover officially moved in, wrapped in the arms of the man he loved, a blend of brilliant blue and orange rising through the skyscrapers of the city, a sense of peace washed over him that Dick had never known before.

Dick was content to stay like this forever. Conner’s warm, strong body pressed up against his as his lover held him close, Dick closed his eyes as he could feel Conner’s lungs expand as he breathed, the bare chest pressed against his back, and then Conner was pressing his lips down Dicks' neck. Dick pushed away from the railing and turned in Conner’s embrace, his lover’s arms circling tighter around his waist as he pulled him close, their chests pressed together. Dick moved his arms to loosely wrap around Conner’s neck as he leaned up to kiss Conner deeply, slowly, breathing him in as Conner did the same, suspended in time as he tried to put every ounce of feeling and emotion he could into it and could feel Conner returning it as they kissed passionately. 

He’d never been with anyone the way he’d been with the man in front of him. His life had been a series of incomplete’s. He never got the time with his parents a child was supposed to. He never would have a normal relationship with his adopted father because of their relationship not only as pseudo father and son but as mentor and protégé that caused friction between them. He never would be completely one person, the dichotomy of Nightwing and Dick Grayson keeping his life in a constant state of separation. 

It was the same for Conner. Having been a clone, his DNA being a combination of one of the greatest heroes the world’s ever known and his arch nemesis, his only family being one he was thrust into because he didn’t really have a history, Conner knew what incomplete’s felt like. 

But together, as they city sprung alive behind them, Conner unfolded from around Dick and grabbed his hand, leading him back into the apartment, Dick knew that at least they had found something that felt whole, that felt full.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.


End file.
